Twice Upon a Time
by NinjaWhisper
Summary: All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.
1. Prologue

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Prologue-

Year= 820 AD

After Bulma died, Vegeta aged at a tremendously fast rate. Everyone watched forlornly as the years slipped from his face, and his body began to look hollow, like it was pushing the life out of it. He didn't mind. There was nothing left to do. He'd only lived for four things in his life: rivaling Kakarot, being a father, being a husband, and fighting. The legendary Goku had moved on long ago to a mysterious realm for the chosen best heroes. The family he had left could care for themselves. As for fighting, there were others to take over now- the younger generation.

It's time, he thought. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side but he hoped it had to do with his wife and possibly a good match with his rival. Not that he was expecting anything that good. The last time he'd died it'd been straight to hell. He'd murdered thousands of people. Nothing could make up for that.

So tired. He leaned his head back upon the pillow and shut his eyes. Pictures of his life passed upon the blackened screens of his lids. His lips twitched. There were no regrets. Yes, he made mistakes, but when he compared it to where he ended up, damn was life a blast. He'd shaken the planet up quite a bit in his days.

He was brought out of his reverie by a tiny body slipping onto the bed. "Grandpa."

Oh, Vegeta Jr. His eyes fluttered to see his bright-eyed great-grand-son, who looked a lot like himself (hence the name at birth). Vegeta reached over and patted the kid's head weakly. "Boy, does your mother know you are in here?"

The five-year old shrugged.

"You look sleepy, grandpa."

"I'm very sleepy."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "Then you probably aren't going to tell me a story."

Vegeta licked his dry lips and contemplated. "I've told you all of them. You remember them, right? Why don't you tell your own story?"

The child did a butt-hop that was a little rough for a man on his death-bed. The kid had Saiyan spunk. A sense of pride ran through the old man. Vegeta Jr. never would have been shipped off to another planet for being weaker than the rest.

"I sure do! I remember them all. I know all about the dragon balls and the dragon, and Nam-ick, and Ma-gin Buu, and Super Say-ins, and . . . and. . . "

Vegeta nodded. "Good, boy. Don't forget."

"I'll never forget," his great-grandson vowed.

"It's up to you now to make stories. To become a Super Saiyan and save the world. Your father been training you right?"

Vegeta Jr. stood up on the mattress. He positioned his hands together and aimed for the vanity-mirror. "I can break stuff, wanna see?"

The proper thing would have been to say no, but why not go out with a little mischief? "Show me, boy."

A yellow ki blast shot forth and shattered the mirror. Vegeta Jr. smiled with pride and Vegeta smirked. Any second now the kid's mother was bound to storm in and discover the mess. The blast made quite a sound. For some reason no one came. Maybe the woman had stepped out to speak with the neighbor.

"I'm proud of you, boy. Soon you'll be glowing gold in no time."

"And using the dragon balls!"

"Sure," Vegeta humored.

"I'm gonna wish for everyone to have enough toys. There's a boy in my kindergarten class who doesn't have enough toys."

"Great, we've got ourselves another St. Nicholas," Vegeta whispered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, boy, I didn't say a thing."

"What would you wish for, Grandpa?"

His eyes felt really heavy. They began to droop. He had such little ki left, and he knew that the next time he closed his eyes, it'd most likely be his last. The boy tugged on his sleeve.

"Grandpa!"

"Me. . . I've had my trouble with those blasted balls, they're yours."

Leave me alone, Vegeta thought. He just wanted to rest now. Wouldn't the kid go away?

Vegeta Jr. tugged again. "Come on, Grandpa, what would you wish for?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm gonna get those balls and make a wish. But I wanna know what a good wish is. So tell me."

Vegeta closed his eyes.

"Grandpa!"

Shut the kid up, someone. I wanna sleep. I wanna . . . die in peace.

"What would you wish for, Grandpa?"

Okay, he wasn't going to get to die without answering the annoying brat's question. What was a good wish? What did he have left to wish for, besides having the kid shut up and leave him alone now?

To beat Kakarot in the Otherworld? Hmmm. . . Not bad. He opened his mouth to speak but the words that came out weren't the ones he prepared.

"I'd wish that when I wake up I'd be beside your great-great-grandmother."

"Oh! But Grandma is dead."

I know.

So tired . . . There were sounds in the distance. Someone took Vegeta Jr away. There were some mutterings. Some remarks about how sad it was that he probably wouldn't wake up this time. Something about the dragon balls turning up missing. The last one may have caused him to stir if he wasn't so tired. So tired . . .

It's time to sleep, he thought. And, somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped that wish would come true. That when he woke up he'd be beside Bulma, his wife, again.

AN- I don't know what I think about this chapter. I hope Vegeta wasn't too out of character. I mean, he has lived for a long time and isn't the mean guy he once was, especially to his small great-grandson. I almost didn't make a prologue but I knew I had to give some sort of hintful reason why he wakes up in the past (if you haven't figured it out yet, Vegeta Jr. stole the dragon balls and is going to make a wish for his grandpa).


	2. Chapter 1

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 1-

Year= 765 AD

The first thing he realized when he awoke was how badly he hurt. He ached all over and something terribly uncomfortable covered his nose and mouth. So, it was hell then? And they let me keep my body? Wait, did that add up? He groaned and opened his eyes to spot a white ceiling. Interesting. He pulled the infuriating plastic thing off his face to discover it was an oxygen mask.

Great, he thought, I'm not dead and I'm in a hospital, he thought. He was about to settle back down in defeat when he spotted the hand that held the wretched mask. It was scratched, but that wasn't what caught his attention. No, it was how smooth it appeared. How young the skin looked. It was then that Vegeta cued in on his ki, and felt it pulsate with a brilliance he hadn't felt in at least seven years. What? He bolted upright. This was all wrong.

A soft sound (a puff of air like breathing) came from his left side and his head shot over. There, in a chair, her head lying down on a desk, slept Bulma. Not the Bulma who died from cancer a few years ago, no the high-spirited Bulma that sparked his attention in his youth. The one with that ridiculous hairstyle that consisted of a perm that made her hair shoot up.

Vegeta barely breathed. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, ignoring the twinge in his muscles. Was this some sort of Otherworld he'd never heard of? A heaven where he'd awoken next to his wife in her prime. Where he had a body to touch her once again. Before thinking, his hand shot out to touch her head. She shifted and his hand shot back.

Bulma groggily lifted herself and turned. "Oh, Vegeta, you're up? How are you feeling?"

"What is this place?"

"One of the spare rooms. Father thought this one had more room for the equipment than the one you've been staying in. If you like this room better, you can switch," the younger version of his wife babbled.

He stared, agape. "Not the room, woman, the place," he snapped.

She took a moment to run her eyes over him, but not in lust, instead in concern. "Um, Vegeta, did you damage your head in the explosion?"

He leaned forward and grabbed ahold of her small shoulders and shook her. "Tell me, woman, now!"

The reaction he got wasn't surprising, given his insistent behavior. She shoved him from her and pulled away. She stood, looking down on him as if he'd gone crazy.

"I'm going to go get my father," she said.

He reached out to grab her hand, trying a new approach. "Please."

She stopped and raised an eyebrow at him, somewhat amazed. "Please?" She sounded like he'd never said the word before. He pondered that. Had he?

"What is this place I've woken up in? Are you in fact Bulma or is this a trick?"

She once again seemed concerned and maybe even pitying. She gazed down at their linked hands wearingly. "I . . ." She swallowed. "I'm most certainly Bulma. The question is, are you Vegeta? You sure are acting strange." She sighed. "We're at Capsule Corp., my house. Did you have a dream you were on Vegeta or Namek?"

Before he could answer, the door flung open and of all people stood Yamcha. The man froze at the entry, his hand still grasping the doorknob. His jaw hardened.

Bulma slipped her fingers from Vegeta and turned to Yamcha. "Yes, Yamcha, what is it?"

"Well, I was just checking up to see why you were held up in here so long. But I get the picture." His eyes narrowed.

She crossed her arms. "And what is it your brilliant artist of a mind painted?"

He pointed to Vegeta. "Well, you too were looking quite chummy when I walked in. All hand-holding and all."

"Oh, come on! You are so childish!" Bulma barked.

"I let the incident earlier go because the guy was covered in pieces of explosion, but he looks all better now, so keep your distance," Yamcha said.

"Is that an order? Well, Mr. Keeper, no one owns me, I do what I want."

All eyes went to Vegeta when he broke into hysterical laughter. Stunned, they watched as he continued to act like a crazy person.

"I get it. This is a dream as I drift to the Otherworld. Because it's too good for hell,"  
Vegeta said with eyes on Bulma, and then pointed at Yamcha. "And definitely too bad for heaven."

Bulma leaned in and whispered to Yamcha, "I think he hit his head." She glanced over at the banged-up houseguest before she grabbed Yamcha's arm and pulled him out of the room to speak privately.

Alone, Vegeta rubbed his eyes. He had a headache, which made him feel like he'd hit his head. The window was cracked open and the curtains blew back, drifting in the scent of fresh afternoon. His gaze roamed over the room and landed on a set of photographs on the opposite wall. They hung on the wall, staggered, and showed Bulma with her parents at three different stages in her life: childhood, teenage, and early adulthood. He got up and brushed his fingers across the glass. If this was a dream, it was the most vivid one he'd ever had.

Murmurs filtered from behind the closed door. Vegeta drew closer.

"You are spending more time with that murderer than me, your innocent boyfriend."

"I'm beginning to wonder if you are my boyfriend."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He stepped back. He was eavesdropping in a dream. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right. . . because it was too damn right. He leaned against the wall and tried to relax. Maybe it wasn't a dream. He didn't want to get too hopeful of it being real, but couldn't help but think it. What other possibilities were there?

An illusion. He'd been sucked into a villain's game. Well, possibly. . . But for what purpose would they place him, an elderly man who could no longer fight, in an illusion. That didn't make sense.

Then it hit him. _Come on, Grandpa, what would you wish for?_ Oh, for Dende's sake! That kid was as bad as Trunks when it came to being mischievous. Yes, it all made sense now. Vegeta Jr. wished on the dragon balls that his great-grandfather would wake up next to his great-grandmother. Vegeta smirked. This hadn't been the wish he'd intended. He'd meant to see Bulma in the Otherworld, but this was even better.

He lifted his right arm and flexed. This was so much better. The sensation of power and agility was overwhelming. He couldn't wait to get back into using this body for training . . . and other pleasures.

As if on cue, the door swung back into his face. He made a grunt. "Watch it, woman!"

"Oh, Vegeta, you shouldn't be so close to the door!" Bulma said. She eyed him. "You weren't listening, were you?"

He crossed his arms. "And so what if I was? So you drop the weakling boy like a hot potato?"

She glared. "That's really not your business," she said.

His eyes met hers and the shock on her face indicated that his look spoke that it was his business. She inched back.

Her hand waved in the air at her side, as if trying to push the uncomfortable look aside. "You seem to have recovered from whatever had you out of sorts. I was about to go get my dad with the brain waves machine to make sure everything was still working properly."

"Everything is working properly," he assured her, taking a step forward.

She smiled, a little shakily. "Oh, good. Then, I'll be off."

He stepped again, backing her up into the wall. "Wanna check me out to be sure?" He eyed her suggestively, taking in her tight reddish-orange outfit.

The last thing he expected was her to knee him in the groin. She'd never been so rude. No one had ever been that rude to this Saiyan Prince!

"You, pig!" she shouted. "All you men are the same!" She stomped out the door with a bang.

The kick was weak, coming from an Earthling woman, so it didn't take long to recover. He straightened. What went wrong? He'd acted just as evil before. She'd liked it. It'd turned her on. But then, that'd been later. He thought about how much later. Maybe two or three months later. He groaned in frustration. He didn't want to wait a few months.

Timing was everything, apparently.


	3. Chapter 2

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

I'd like to thank everyone for the great reviews! You guys keep me motivated.

Chapter 2-

A few months being around Bulma and not touching her. He shuddered, not sure if he could stand it. The memories were clear now. She'd held onto Yamcha for at least two more months before they broke up. That was when she became willing to drown her sorrows with some Saiyan princely action.

It was going to be a long wait. Besides living in the cold spray of the shower, there was only one logical solution: train.

He headed out into the hall and followed the smell of breakfast. Mrs. Briefs whistled as she scrambled eggs in an iron skillet. A small mechanical bot that resembled a vacuum cleaner with arms carried over a bowl of rice to the table. It deposited it by extracting its arm up and over the piece of furniture. Vegeta's stomach growled.

"Vegeta," the blonde woman squealed with delight. "I'm going all out this morning, so go ahead and dig in."

"Good thing, I thought I'd start training right away," he said as he sat down in one of the wooden chairs.

"I'm afraid that will have to wait," Dr. Briefs declared upon his entry. The black kitten on his shoulder began to slip and he slid it back up. It mewed. "The updated Gravity Capsule won't be ready for a few days."

Vegeta scowled. He hadn't considered that there wouldn't be a place to train because of the explosion. Yes, he remembered the few days of torture now. He had to resort to push-ups in the front yard at normal Earth gravity. After that, he succumbed to mindlessly dull programs on the television.

Bulma came in and halted at the sight of Vegeta. He stared back, unsure. He didn't regret his actions, but he knew he had to tread with caution.

"The animals are fed, Mom," Bulma said, obviously deciding to let it go. At least in public.

"Oh, thank you for taking care of the darlings, dear," Mrs. Briefs said. She came over and scooped some eggs onto the plates.

Bulma hesitated at the table before sitting at the opposite end, away from Vegeta. He smirked.

"I won't bite," he said.

"No, but you'd like to," she said.

Damn right he would.

Breakfast passed Earthingly boring. Dr. Briefs and Bulma talked about a project they had going. Mrs. Briefs patted her husband's hand and smiled at everything. Vegeta ate like a Saiyan Warrior, but one who wasn't about to train, which consisted of only one stack of dishes.

"Would someone pass the salt?" Bulma asked.

Without thinking, Vegeta slightly rose and handed her the shaker. She grabbed it and their fingers slightly touched. Was that a blush?

Handing over salt and things was something he'd grown automatically used to. After years of nagging for him to "do the little things", he slowly began to pass things, put the dishes in the sink, and even on occasion take out the trash. More like yell at Trunks or Bra to take out the trash, but still, the job got done.

"Thank you," Bulma said, surprised.

"Don't get the wrong idea, woman," he said. "I'm not your waiter."

"Of course not, your highness." It was said teasingly.

Maybe he'd began this do-over with Bulma all wrong. He knew this woman. That she loved buying jewelry above anything. That she had to have black coffee in the morning. That she enjoyed foot massages. That she watched the eleven o'clock news everyday on the dot. That she had to have lavender bubble-bath in the tub and no other scent but that one. That her favorite ice-cream was Rocky Road.

If he was going to steal her away from that weakling Earth boy before two whole months, he had to divert her attention. Show her that he had something better to offer. As a man, he didn't understand why she needed something beyond the direct approach: AKA his attractive body, but if she needed wooing . . . He'd give her more than a few reasons to dump that moronic boy Yamcha. Over the years, he'd grown accustomed to keeping his wife happy outside the bedroom as well as in (behind closed doors, of course).

After finishing, Vegeta carried the stack of dishes to the sink. Bulma's jaw dropped.

Mrs. Briefs grinned. "Why, Vegeta, how kind of you."

Bulma was too shocked to speak. He smirked. The mission was underway.

_11 o'clock- The News_

Vegeta flipped through the channels. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back in the couch. On the dot, Bulma halted near the arm of the sofa.

"You're watching television?"

"There's nothing on these blasted Earth channels," he complained. He threw her the remote. "I'd rather watch the news than whatever The Price is Right is. Looked like a child guessing game."

"You won't mind if I watch the news?"

"Why not. Should be amusing."

She rolled her eyes and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. She grew stiff when he lazily reached his arm over the back of the sofa towards her. He pretended not to notice. He didn't even make any wise-cracks about how the Earthlings created some of the atrocities themselves by being an inferior race.

_2 o'clock- In passing_

He grunted in greeting on the way to the bathroom. "Nice earrings."

"Wh-What?"

He looked back and caught Bulma reach up to pinch the red dangling balls before he rounded the corner. He stopped in the shiny, modernistic hallway and smiled at this little game. It was actually pretty fun. He'd tag her every chance he got, stalk her, toy with her. Tempt her. Charm her. . . Until he could get her to play back.

_5 o'clock- Dinner preparations_

Vegeta surprised himself when he volunteered to go to the store for Mrs. Briefs. He never went to the store. Ever. Not even when Bulma had cravings with Bra. The outing was excruciating, but it was worth it to bring back a gallon of Rocky Road ice-cream.

He arrived back to find Bulma on the kitchen phone. She seemed irritated. "Fine, I'll be there." She hung up and turned toward Mrs. Briefs. "Mom, Yamcha wants to meet me for dinner."

Setting the bag on the counter a little too roughly, the ice-cream container made a thud. Bulma jumped.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Briefs remarked, putting a hand over her chest.

"I brought back dessert," Vegeta said, coldly.

"You bought dessert?" Bulma said.

"Rocky Road ice-cream." Not the subtlest remark, but he wasn't going to let his deed go unnoticed. He had to stand behind an elderly woman in line who bought depends.

"Wh-why?"

"Sounded good. What's it to you?"

"You went all the way to the grocery store because we were out of Rocky Road ice-cream?" Bulma's eyebrow rose.

"Yeah. And your point?"

She shook her head. "What is with you lately?"

"Nothing is _with_ me."

"You've been acting strange. _Doing_ things."

"Got nothing better to do. Now, off with you. Wouldn't want to miss your wine and dine with the dream-boy."

She moved slowly, as if trying to become un-stunned. "Save me some, would you?"

"Can't promise anything."

_9 o'clock_

Bulma arrived back too early for a good date. He sensed her returned energy and quietly exited his room to spy on her. She flung her ruby purse on a chair with a sigh. By her body language he knew she was tired, which pleasantly meant they most likely had spent the evening arguing. She took off her shoes, tossed them aside, and wiggled her toes. Vegeta ran his eyes from her feet, to her ankles, and then up to her smooth, white legs. He remembered the feel of those legs wrapped around him, those slim hips they attached to. He didn't want them to be a memory. He'd been living a memory for years.

She opened the freezer door and rummaged inside. He knew what she found. A carton of ice-cream only half touched. A smile twitched his lips when she took it out and grabbed a spoon. Yamcha hadn't even gotten to dessert.

_10 o'clock- Bath Time_

Every night, Bulma took a bath at 10 pm. He usually took his in the afternoon after training, but this was the perfect opportunity to bump into her partially naked. He waited down the bathroom hall, only in shorts. Where the hell was that woman? Was she going to skip that evening?

Then he felt her tiny ki energy and heard her soft footsteps. He straightened and moved to act like he'd just gotten there, was arriving without a clue to her schedule. She appeared towel in hand, dressed in pajamas and pink fuzzy slippers. He came forward, prepared to bump into her, but she stopped. She stared.

He puffed his bare chest out a little in pride. Yes, take a good look. Do you like what you see? I know you do, because you made it clear before that you did.

She licked her lips. "You're taking a shower?"

"Was gonna. You?"

She nodded, eyes still on his muscles. "Bath."

"Fine, woman. It's all yours." He tried to sound like it was a bother. He hoped it came out convincing. Vegeta turned to leave.

Her voice came out raspy. "Why have you been nice all day?"

"I'm not nice. It's your imagination."

"No. It's not."

"I'm a pig, remember."

Her blue eyes softened. She was close now. Too close. He could smell her familiar perfume. His hand twitched, wanting to touch her hair like he used to do.

"Is that it? Trying to prove me wrong?" she asked.

"I've got nothing to prove to anyone. I am the Prince of all Saiyans," he declared.

The atmosphere was getting a little too warm. If she kept this up he'd be taking a cold shower. Unless . . . She got even closer.

"Bulma . . ." He'd said her name. The word that had been on his lips since yesterday's awakening, but too afraid to let it escape. She was real. Somewhere in his mind he hadn't been 100% certain. Don't cry. Oh, don't cry. This was definitely the wrong time to cry. He was strong, though, and managed to hold it in.

Instead of kissing him as he'd thought, she put her head on his shoulder and cried herself. What the hell? The last thing he'd expected was for her to blubber on him.

"What in the world, woman, are you doing?" But he didn't push her away. He wished he had the courage to pat her head in comfort. Something about returning to this younger body returned some of his stubborn pride.

"I broke up with Yamcha," she sobbed.

Inside, he was thrilled. So, she wasn't going to waste two whole months hanging onto that weakling. He kept his body rigid, as if it meant little to him. "Well, good riddance."

She nodded against his skin.

"Do you want me to move?" she asked.

No. How could he say that? He opened his mouth. "I want you to stop crying. The boy's not worth it."

She nodded again. "That's why I'm crying."

Vegeta huffed. Women.

They remained like that until Bulma composed herself. She pulled away and wiped the wetness from her face.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she said.

He grunted.

"I think I'm going to just go to bed. The shower is all yours." She trailed off down the hall.

Dammit. Now he needed a shower. A cold one.

AN- So, I began thinking I made Vegeta too rough last chapter, so I tried out a softer Vegeta this chapter. I'm trying to balance both sides to his nature (younger and older/more mature). Also, I'm up for any suggestions about what to do with this. I have a few ideas, but they are small, and some of them come later when Trunks arrives. Any ideas about a prospective villain would be helpful / or a conflict. Or, how Bulma could discover he is from the future. I figure Cell won't be too much of a threat this time around (I've got that part figured out).


	4. Chapter 3

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

So, I've brainstormed and came up with some ideas. Yay, I'm not going to write some random stuff without a destination.

Chapter 3-

Despite Vegeta's efforts at nicety, Bulma didn't throw herself at him. He didn't understand it. He was obviously gaining brownie points, just like when they'd been married, because she smiled a lot at him and lingered close-by more often. Still, he didn't know how long he'd be able to keep this goodie-goodie routine up. It wasn't in his nature. The whole thing just frustrated him in more than one way.

It was somewhat worrisome how things could fall so off-course from the first timeline. She'd broken up with Yamcha, but handled it so differently. In the original time, they'd gotten together immediately following. She'd initiated it. This attempt to reel her in was unnatural. What could he do? The direct approach failed, and this new getting on her good-side took too long. Wasn't there something he could do to speed up the process? Sleeping alone was excruciating. He spent most of the night trying not to focus on her energy rooms away, and having to resort to the hand.

But, then again, compared to where he'd been before this trip, he'd take just being in the same house as her. It was better than dying without her, not knowing if he'd end up in the same place. At least she was here, if not declared his own.

The gravity capsule version 2 became complete at the end of the week. Bulma's father exploded the capsule in a puff of smoke and then gave Vegeta a tour of its new features. The capsule was a gravity chamber as well as a ship, and spent half as much fuel as its prototype. Vegeta grew bored fast but grunted as if he was somewhat interested.

Given time to experiment alone, he tested his limits. He stood in the gravity room at 500 Earth's gravity and sweat drenched his skin as he tried to move. Okay, this body wasn't used to that pressure. He'd have to drop it down. Panting, he managed to crank the knob down to 300 Earth's gravity. Better.

Could he go into Super Saiyan 3? He gathered the energy, shouting as it accumulated. He felt his hair change, growing heavier and longer down his back. Then, it all puttered out, and he fell to his knees. Okay. He was only able to keep it going for a few seconds. This body was a real nuisance in a way. It hadn't developed as far as he had, and wasn't accustomed to the energy level or pressure of his gravity exposure. Whatever. He'd boost it up in no time. He settled for Super Saiyan 2, which pulsated with a stable vibrancy. It occurred to him that he wasn't even supposed to know Super Saiyan yet. Kakarot, the one everyone called Goku, had only just learned it not that long ago.

The thought made him halt. His head shot up and something passed over his face that would have appeared devilish. At the current moment, where he now resided, _he_ was stronger than Kakarot. Hell, he was probably the strongest man on the planet.

Laughter spilled out of him. It felt so good, this revelation. The Prince of all Saiyans, Vegeta, had finally met his true worth and destiny. He was the best.

He'd show that damned Kakarot who had the power. Who deserved to be treated as king. Who was worthy to have respect.

And, he'd keep training. He'd get even stronger. Even faster. There was no way Kakarot would be able to catch up. Never.

He reveled in these emotions for quite a while. Coming to a decision, he started the space ship. He'd take a little test-drive to outer space. It'd be good to clear his head of Bulma, as well as train on another planet with open space. There was no way, now that he knew he had the advantage, that he was going to let it slip by being lazy down here on Earth.

_Four Days Later_

Bulma lounged on the couch under a snuggly beige blanket. A book on microchips lay face-down at her side. The words kept running together and she'd read the same paragraph over and over. Her mind kept wondering, specifically to one dark-haired, maddening, sexy Saiyan. One absent sexy Saiyan.

A pout formed on her lips. It bothered her more than it should that he'd left without any notice and she had no idea when he'd be back. _If_ he'd be back at all. It wasn't like he had anything to hold him here except for his rivalry with Goku. That made her feel. . . It couldn't be fear, could it?

Something changed over the past few days. She'd began to see a side of Vegeta she'd never seen before. Sure, he'd still been foul and rude, but it was intermingled with incidents of thoughtfulness. She almost used the word kindness, but that didn't seem right. No, thoughtfulness suited it. For instance, if she were to fall asleep and the blanket fell, she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up and it were wrapped around her once again.

For some reason she couldn't imagine Yamcha doing such things. He probably would have, but she couldn't picture it. Probably because he'd never lived there. Because, somewhere, she'd always held him at a distance. Like a simple past-time until she found something better. How horrible, she realized. She'd been using him in a way.

Bulma stroked the soft blanket and she contemplated the dream she'd had a few days ago right before Vegeta left on the space ship. It'd been one steamy encounter- in the kitchen of all places, and involved Rocky Road ice-cream. She smiled at the memory, but then her mouth fell. Damn Saiyan. She missed him.

Part of her regretted her actions when he'd shown sexual advances toward her. Her body wanted him ever since he'd begun to pack on the muscles. Her mind. . . Now, that was the part of her that questioned. She knew she could be shallow with the looks, but she wasn't about to get involved with someone unless they were capable of affection. Vegeta had never shown any indication of thinking of anyone but himself. Until lately. Which made her wonder if there was something deep down he hid.

Something sad and bittersweet hung in the air. Bulma came to realize something startling. She liked Vegeta. She liked the way he made her feel, as a woman; and lately, he'd even made her feel cared for. There was something strong and mature about him these past few days. Yamcha always seemed like a big-kid.

Bulma sunk her head. A massive weight of regret seemed to press on her. She'd let Vegeta get away. Her hands balled the blanket into fists. Maybe he'd never come back, she thought again. She felt like crying. So stupid.

That was how Vegeta found her as he stormed into the home, catching her off-guard. Her cobalt eyes went wide with shock and wonder. He stood there, clothes in tatters, his hair wild. Scrapes marred his skin. He looked like a wild beast.

She jumped up. "Vegeta!" It was a cry of relief.

He stood there, blinking. She stood there, agape. "Yes, that's my name," he said.

"You're back." She breathed.

He ran a hand through his hair. "You act like you thought I wasn't coming back at all."

She shook her head. "I didn't know if you were."

He chuckled. "Like I'd pass up the opportunity to pound Kakarot into the ground."

Smiling, she said, "No, I guess you wouldn't." She paused, relaxing. "Did you go Super Saiyan then?"

He grinned. "I did more than that."

She bit her lip, suddenly not knowing what to say or do.

Vegeta nodded. He turned toward the direction of his room. "I better go change, I guess. Get ready for bed."

Instinctively, she grabbed his arm. He turned, questioningly. They looked each other in the eyes. Then, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He was softer than expected and ran a hand over her short blue hair that she'd restyled in his absence. The kiss turned to a new intensity and their tongues came out to play in a dance of frenzy. He staggered her back into the couch and they toppled onto it, his body mounting over hers. He lifted, pressed her arms over her head, holding her in submission. She panted.

Oh my God. That was all her brain could comprehend. The hardness between his legs grinded against her and she moaned. Gotta get those clothes off. Too many.

She tore at his tattered remnants and he smirked evilly. They were a little nicer to her clothes . . . a little. Naked. Hot. Eager and demanding.

He lifted her hips up to meet him and positioned where he fit. A moment of amazement passed over his face. Meshing together, she felt like she was melting away, drowning into nothingness. Just this fire of intensity that fueled them. That was all that remained. That was all that mattered. For a split second she had a sense of deja vu. We've been here before, she thought. But then she swept it aside as simply meaning they belonged like this.

"Bulma," he grunted as he rose and lowered.

She whimpered. It felt so good and bad all rolled into one. Just like him.

Vegeta filled her, molded her, turned her sideways and back. She met his rocks and dug her manicured nails into his back, probably adding to his scratches. She shook, broke, and was remade.

There was one thing for sure. . . They'd never be the same after this.

AN- How do you like that fun bunches of apples? I think it was the best chapter yet, don't you?


	5. Chapter 4

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

AN- I've never seen GT so things might not match with that

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 4-

The ghost of warmth met him upon awakening, only to discover it was real and alive. Bulma's head rested on his shoulder, her left leg draped over, and her arm keeping him in place. In the midst of their union, they'd stumbled into his room. He remembered moments such as these, during the beginning of their mating, in which he snuck away before she stirred to prevent confrontation. She had been a simple act of pleasure, a release, and obsession. But, then things got complicated as time went on, and slowly he grew attached to her. Fond of her. Even love her (although it was hard for him to admit it outloud).

There would be no running this go around. The chill of her absence would always stay fresh, and he couldn't stand to waste a single moment. He didn't deserve this. He, of all people, should be rotting in the depths of hell alone. Yet, here he was, in a place far better than any imagined heavenly Otherworld.

He reached over and slid his hand over her short blue hair, an act he performed in the middle of their marriage, after he'd grown comfortable and more open. Vegeta wasn't ashamed of the endearment, but wished she wouldn't wake up. He'd be embarrassed for her to see him in such a weak act. This Bulma knew him as proud and strong, and he wanted to cultivate these images before showing vulnerabilities.

They lay there for a while and Vegeta was about to drift back down when she moved. Her eyes fluttered. "Oh. . ." she mumbled. "V-Vegeta." She lifted her head and oriented herself with the room.

After a moment, she settled back down and smiled. "I'm not ready to get up yet. This feels too good."

"I hope you aren't comparing me to something soft and comfy," Vegeta said.

"Way to ruin the relaxed moment, Mr. Good with Words. Are you wanting me to tell you that you are as hard as they come?"

"I better be as hard as they come," he said.

She reached down beneath the sheet. "Not currently. But I could make you so," she quipped.

The scent of breakfast passed into the room and interrupted the mood. Surprisingly it wasn't Vegeta's stomach that growled, but Bulma's instead.

"Used too many calories?" he asked with smugness.

"It was quite a workout. The prince knows how to put his Saiyan power to proper use. He must be famished as well."

"Of course."

The two dragged themselves out of bed. He noticed her hand twitch toward his but he quickly crossed his arms. There was no way he was walking out to meet her parents holding hands. Never. She acted like she understood and he hoped she did.

He packed in three stacks of dishes, using perfect table manners, despite the load and speed. Bulma had an extra helping as well and this made him smirk.

"More rice," Vegeta ordered Mrs. Briefs while holding out the bowl.

The blonde woman stood. "Why, Vegeta, you have quite an appetite this morning," she cheerfully said. She took his bowl and proceeded to the rice cooker. She ladled out a generous helping of the sticky substance.

"Wore myself out last night," he said. Bulma gave him a warning look. Obviously she didn't want her parents to find out about their escapades. He didn't understand her worry. Her mother was as bright as a dead lightbulb.

Mrs. Briefs set the bowl on the table in front of him. "You train so hard."

Bulma leaned forward. "You know, you've been here for months now, and I'm sure you know where the rice cooker is by now."

Vegeta swallowed a pile of rice on the tip of his chop-sticks. "Your point, woman?"

"My _point_, oh royal highness, is that you could get off your lazy butt and get your own food next time."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why would I do that? She doesn't seem to mind."

"I don't mind, dear," Mrs. Briefs told her daughter as she sat back down. "More tea, Vegeta?" She held out the teapot, prepared to refill his cup.

Bulma glared at both of them. "Mom, why do you put up with this?"

"Put up with what, dear?"

"Waiting on him hand and foot."

"He's our guest, Bulma sweetie."

"He's not our guest anymore. He's my- our. . ." She was at a loss for words.

Vegeta stood up. "I'm done," he declared. He proceeded to leave.

"Hey! Aren't you forgetting something?" Bulma said. She gestured to the stacks of dishes. He shrugged.

Okay, he'd been nice and done a few things before. That didn't mean it was a habit. Why should he continue doing it anymore? He'd already gotten the results he'd aimed for.

"I told you before I wouldn't be a servant boy," he said.

"Fine, go! Be your usual dead-beat bum!" Bulma shooed him with her hands.

"That's uncalled for, woman. I'm training to save this mudhole world you call home. You should be grateful."

"I said, go," she said.

He left, exasperated. What did she want from him? Earth women, even after living on Earth for over fifty years, they still didn't make any sense. At times, Bulma seemed to want to wait on him. Like when she'd given him the pink shirt (he mentally shuddered at the memory) after his shower. Or, when she asked if he wanted barbeque sauce on his ribs while outdoor grilling. Other times, she complained that she did everything. After they were married, she'd mutter all the time that she had "two children to pick up for", and she hadn't included Bra in that statement. So, he'd do a thing here and there. But, he wasn't going to resort to being a Mr. Mom.

That evening, Bulma and her father worked late in the lab. Something about nano-technology. Mrs. Briefs fixed him a few cold-meat sandwiches. The bread crumbled onto the table, dispersing a few crumbs.

"I seem to have left some crumbs, clean them up, would you," he remarked.

Mrs. Briefs smiled politely and grabbed a rag and a bottle of kitchen cleaner to wipe off the tabletop. He turned the corner into the hallway and practically smashed into Bulma. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her but let go when he noticed the glower on her face.

"What now, woman? Still mad at me from before?"

"Yes, and more so. I heard what you told my mother just now. You really have no right. You aren't a guest anymore. And this isn't your palace on Planet Vegeta where you have a band of servants you can order around. Earn your keep," she said firmly and poked him in the chest.

It all seemed so trivial. He shook his head.

"I'm not going to turn into a homemaker, got it," he declared.

She sighed. "I guess I'm asking for miracles. It would be too good to be true that you escaped your laziness for more than a day."

Something came to him then. He could actually have fun with this.

"Okay, Bulma, I hear you. You want me to pick up after myself, right?" He drew nearer and spoke suggestively. "What will you give me if I do?" He knew her all too well; especially that she could be just as lustful as him.

Her breathing picked up. The frown on her face turned into a small smile. "I might reward you somehow."

He pinned her against the wall of the hall. The fact that ten years from then there would be hung a framed family photo of Trunks, Bulma, and himself hung on this wall came to Vegeta's mind. There was no connection to this thought and current circumstances, except that he should get as much pleasure out of her before a whining brat disrupted their lives.

Their faces were so close he could feel the hot air escape her nose. Her hungry eyes begged him to ravish her.

"I caught that I'm no longer a guest here. What am I then?" he said huskily.

Her hands clutched his biceps, nails biting into his skin. Her painted lips parted slowly. "You're . . . you." She took a moment to run her eyes up and down his face and chest. "My Vegeta."

A growl escaped his throat at her declaration. "I guess I could settle for being yours. If you'll be my mate in return."

The best part of having petty arguments was making up.

AN- Okay, I got really lazy in this chapter. I don't think it was written that well. But, it was kinda a filler chapter anyways, and I got interrupted during it. Next chapter will be better, I promise. Lots of fun in store.


	6. Chapter 5

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- Thanks again for the reviews! Also, I thought I would share that I am watching GT now and boy am I cringing. In my opinion, Goku is OOC. Sure, he seems like DB Goku as a kid but this should be grown-up Goku, and he was a "tad" bit smarter. I'm so disappointed Vegeta didn't laugh in Goku's face for turning into a child again. Really? The only thing I'm liking so far is Trunks, but even that is a bit sketchy with him wearing glasses and being head of Capsule Corp. *shakes head* Anyways . . . Onto the story. . .

Chapter 5-

The pair fell into a routine. Months went by in which Bulma spent her days in the laboratory and Vegeta trained. Nights were established for both of them. Neither could sleep without the other. Bulma often went to her room and then snuck into his room halfway into the night. He knew she was attempting to hide her preference from her parents.

That didn't last long. One night, in the beginning of winter, a knock stirred the couple. Bulma shot straight up. Vegeta grunted upon waking and rolled on his side.

"What is the commotion?" he rasped.

Bulma whispered, "I think someone is at the door."

"At this time of night? Woman, go back to sleep."

It wasn't her imagination because there was another soft knock. Vegeta wasn't about to get up and answer. Besides, he'd have to put something on first. Bulma seemed too shocked to move.

"Bulma, dear," came Mrs. Brief's sweet voice. The door cracked open. The hall light streamed in and Bulma held the sheet up to her chin, shielding her nakedness.

"Mom. Uh . . . Why are you here?" Bulma said shakily.

"It started snowing. I thought you two might need another blanket." The squinty-eyed blonde held up a thick blue blanket.

"Oh, for Kami's sake," Vegeta grumbled.

"M-Mom, how did you know I was in here?"

Mrs. Brief smiled. "Where else would you be?"

"But, wouldn't you go to my room?"

The elder woman looked surprised. "But you aren't in your room."

"But, how do you know that?"

Mrs. Brief stepped in and handed the blanket over to her daughter. "I've known for months, honey. I spotted you tiptoeing down the hall when I got up to get a drink of water. Plus, you aren't the quietest couple." She spoke and acted like it was no big deal. Which, in Vegeta's book, it wasn't.

Bulma's blue eyes stayed wide when her mother leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Mrs. Brief gave Vegeta a wave before exiting. Vegeta closed his eyes, prepared to go back to sleep, but he sensed that Bulma was reluctant to lie back down.

"What is your problem?" he asked.

"That was my mother. In ou-your room."

"Yeah, so?"

"That was very embarrassing. My mother knows I'm having kinky sex with you and doesn't care."

"Figures. Nothing fazes that woman. If the planet was going to be destroyed she'd stay home, brew some tea and take care of her pets," Vegeta said.

She moved and he caught the shadow of her confused features. "It's just weird. She likes you for some reason. I get the feeling she's pleased I'm with you and not Yamcha."

"Don't know why the woman likes me, but anyone can see I'm an upgrade to that little shit."

She playfully hit his chest. "Hey, that's not nice."

"I'm not a nice person."

"Maybe I need reminded."

So, they had their nights. Bulma stopped hiding their relationship, although there wasn't really anything to keep hidden in the day. She kept busy with work and he practiced energy blasts in the gravity chamber. The only contact they had in the waking hours was during meals and it was unlike Vegeta to show public signs of affection.

Time went on. Vegeta made a stop to the calendar that hung near the phone in the kitchen. Of course, the calendar was made by Capsule Corp themselves, and it had photos of manufactured robotics on each month. He flipped through the months, calculating how much longer it would be before the androids and Cell arrived. For some reason he halted on June. There was something special about June 16. Was it their anniversary? No. Then it hit him. June 16 was Trunks' Birthday. Or, was _supposed_ to be Trunks' Birthday.

Vegeta let the pages fall back to the current month, which happened to be February. June was only three full months away. A wash of numbness ran through him. In the other timeline, Bulma was supposed to already be pregnant. He knew she wasn't currently, or at least not far along enough for him to feel the baby's ki.

It was all so surreal. The first coherent thoughts consisted of how life would be so much more peaceful without a bawling brat, and later a mischievous boy who was a lot of trouble. He wouldn't have to go to the crowded park or answer the kid's nonstop questions. _What is a wizard? What is genetics?_ _Why does our hair turn yellow and not red?_ Trunks wouldn't knock deafeningly on their bedroom door on Christmas morning, demanding to see what that fat geezer named Santa brought him. He wouldn't run his mother so rapid that she fell asleep right away during _their_ hours. Life would be simpler without his son.

But, then his mind played memories and feelings about how proud he was of the boy. How eager he was to learn Super Saiyan at such a young age. The fact that Trunks pushed himself and never gave up. That he won the championship against Goten for his father, and Vegeta got to gloat over it.

He remembered hugging the boy before sacrificing himself to Maijin Buu. Trunks had been something to die for. Dammit, he was part of their family.

There was no way Vegeta could just not allow Trunks not to be born. He'd escaped the infant days by leaving them, because he denied to himself that he cared about his son. He even stood aside when he was about ready explode in the plane with Bulma. He'd been fooling himself. If he was going to be honest, which he was now, he left not because he denied caring, but because he needed space because he cared. He'd been fond of the runt since his first breath. And, it didn't even have to do with Trunks technically being the heir to the Saiyan royal family.

If he wanted to create Trunks, there was obviously only one thing to do about it. What he did best.

_Capsule Corp Laboratory_

Her fingers punched at the computer keyboard. She took the mouse and rotated the blown-up diagram on the screen of their nanogene invention. The code was off somewhere, she just needed to find it. Stiles, the head engineer stood over her shoulder, scrutinizing the model.

"Just a little tweaking and we can build this baby," Bulma declared.

Stiles adjusted his glasses. "Mmmm hmmm." Stiles wasn't big on words. He was a hands-on man who simply wanted to get the job done.

The bang of the massive metal door echoed. The scientist lifted her head to spot Vegeta walk head-high toward them. Her mouth parted. He'd never entered the lab before and she really didn't know how to handle his presence. Especially, with Stiles there.

She instinctively smoothed down her hair. She glanced down at her lab coat and felt very dumpy in its fullness.

"Vegeta, what are you doing in here? We're pretty busy. I'm doing a very important project that could mean advancement in biogenetics."

"Not now, Bulma," Vegeta said.

"What do you mean, not now? Yes now."

She squeaked as he lifted her forcefully from the swivel-chair. He held her tightly even as she protested in his muscular arms. She kicked her feet and squirmed. "Put me down! I'm on the job!"

Stiles cleared his throat. She knew he found the display indecent and very unprofessional. He'd probably tattle to her father, which wouldn't make one bit of difference, but still . . .

"You're taking a break. We've got some business to attend to," Vegeta said. He proceeded to carry her.

It didn't take long for her to give in. She stopped her protestation and locked her arms around his neck. He wore his white and gold armor vest and she admired how handsome he was in it. There was something sexy about the energetic encounter in the lab.

Uncertainty arose when he made it to the main door that led outside.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"Out."

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I'm not exactly dressed to go out on a date."

The right side of his mouth lifted. "You won't need clothes for this date."

He transferred her through the doorway and out into the chilly air. There wasn't any snow on the ground but it was close to freezing. She shivered against him. Wherever he was taking her better be close.

Vegeta made it to the domed gravity capsule and fumbled with the handle. The door creaked open. He flipped the light on with his elbow. The compartment smelled sweaty and gross. She really needed to make a trip inside with a bottle of odor fighting air freshener. He deposited her onto her butt and she let out an "oomph". This whole thing was a mixture of excitement and rudeness. She looked up at him as he towered over her.

He crossed his arms. "Okay, Bulma, let's get down to business."

"Did you really drag me out here because you are a horn-dog?"

"A what?"

Bulma shook her head. He obviously wasn't aware of the Earth term. "Never mind. I'm guessing you want to have sex."

"That was the plan."

Well, she was out here now, she'd already been humiliated in front of Stiles, and the nanogene was already postponed. Might as well go along with it.

She stood up and brushed herself off. This place really needed a cleaning. "Okay, okay. But be gentle with me. This floor is hard."

Vegeta practically attacked her. He backed her up into the central control module. His hands roamed and soon the lab coat was tossed aside. His fingers undid the button of her khaki pants and he rubbed against her midriff. He slid her pants down and then began to play and tease her a bit. She leaned back against the machinery.

"Careful, you might turn the gravity button on," he warned.

As if she could help that. She had no control of her body. He rummaged inside her silk panties and brushed against her pleasure spot and she really lost control.

"When was the last time you had your menstrual cycle?"

What the hell? He continued to stroke her despite the question. Her throat made a tiny moan.

"My what?" she panted.

"Your period, woman. When did you have it last?"

Her head spun, both by craving and the absurdity of his question. He must think she might bleed on him or something. "Just last week, you dope. Nothing to worry about. We can do things for an entire month."

Wow, he really was horny, even planning ahead. Geez, men.

Soon, she stood naked. She helped him dispose of the armor, blue fighting suit, and boots. He grabbed her harshly by the behind and laid her down on the floor. She hissed at the coldness, but forgot all about it when he hovered over her, making the temperature rise. He positioned himself at her slit and entered. They both paused for a second, amazed for the countless time at the perfection of the fit.

There was something different about Vegeta than usual. He was more demanding and inpatient. Something like determination was on his face. Like he needed to do this right. Get the job done. As if there was a time limit or something.

He gyrated against her, up and down, in and out. She shuddered again and again. A cry escaped her lips and it bounced off the walls. Her eyes pleaded with him not to stop. Never to stop. Yet, he was insistent of something, as if he needed to end it for some goal. He exploded, coming full force, and the expression of triumph passed over his face.

Both of them relaxed. Bulma held him against her. His back felt slick and smooth. He breathed in the crease between her breasts. She couldn't help but think he was waiting for something to happen. It was very eerie.

"Are you okay?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I'm fine," he said roughly.

She didn't buy it. Something had him upset, and he thought sex would fix it. She didn't want to pressure him because Vegeta wasn't a feely-type guy. So, she held him and waited too.

AN- I usually proof-read but I think I'm gonna go ahead and post it without doing so. If you found something really wrong, let me know so I can fix it. Thanks.


	7. Chapter 6

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Thanks, Pallyndrome, you gave me an idea in this chapter!

Chapter 6-

Three months passed. Still, something was up with Vegeta. He wanted to have sex more and more often, which bugged the hell out of Bulma. She wasn't a sex machine. Sometimes she had to tell him she was too tired. This actually seemed to interest him, and he asked her crazy questions like if she were nauseous as well.

He grew more impatient with her and irritable. When she finally confronted him about it, he said it was his own business. All she could think of was that training wasn't going well, and that he heard that Goku had surpassed him somehow. What else could it be? It wasn't like he that many other worries.

On June 16, something was really wrong. He was quiet. He didn't order anyone around or even call her woman. He even ate less. Bulma was really concerned, and so she kept an eye on him, curious.

She caught him at the open door of one of the guest rooms, just staring into it. Weird. There was nothing in it except for a bed, a nightstand, and a lamp. A painting hung on the wall of some huddled kittens, in which her parents had selected together. Bulma had trouble imagining that Vegeta was admiring the cutesy artwork. When he turned, she thought she spotted a tear. Vegeta was crying?

"I know you're there," he said.

Bulma stepped out into plain sight. She ran her eyes over him. He appeared more ragged than usual and she swore he hadn't brushed his hair. Vegeta was normally very hygienic. Something was definitely wrong today.

"Vegeta, you have to tell me what is going on," she said.

He crossed his arms, closing her off. "Not now."

She let him go.

That day, she had trouble concentrating in the lab. Her mind kept wandering to Vegeta. She'd suspected it already, but in the middle of her concern, she came to realize with certainty that she loved him. Not passion, but full-out love. Of course, she wasn't sure if that love was returned, but there was unquestionably strong attachment on his part. The fact that he would sneak stroking her hair when he thought she was sleeping, give her certain attentive looks, do a few chores (while grumbling, but still do them), and even give her occasional compliments made her pretty confident that his feelings ran deep as well. Also, that he hadn't left her again to go gallivanting in space.

"This is curious," her father remarked. Bulma looked over from her clipboard.

"Hmm?"

Her father stared at the computer screen intently. "The history on our Internet browser is full of sites I've never been to. Bulma, are you trying to get pregnant by any chance?"

"What, no!"

"Well, someone is interested in the concept."

Bulma clutched the clipboard tightly. She blinked as her father went to one of the sites and brought up a page about calculating ovulation and optimizing fertility. Her head spun. Had Vegeta crept into the lab to do a bit of Internet surfing? But why pregnancy tips? Then it hit her and her heart sunk. Vegeta was worried that he might impregnate her.

She'd known it. He wasn't exactly daddy material. A child would simply get in the way. Still, it hurt. It wasn't like she wanted a baby tomorrow, and that was why she kept herself on birth-control pills. Also, because she was scared he'd leave her if she accidentally got pregnant. Yet, knowing he'd go to the trouble to look up on how fertility happened to avoid it . . . She tilted her head to the side and brushed her wet eyes.

Could she give up motherhood for him? She wasn't sure. The miracle of birth was something she'd always wanted to experience ever since she was a little girl. Oh, Vegeta, she thought.

_Vegeta's Room_

He'd left training early. He thought powering up would help him clear his head but it didn't work. The sight of Trunks' empty room, now a guest room, hit hard. He tried not to picture mountains of cluttered toy robots, video games, and plush dinosaurs upon the carpet. He attempted to banish the faint inward sound of Trunks making crashing and exploding noises as he played battle, while Goten laughed beside him.

Dammit, Vegeta thought while lying sprawled on the made bed. He hated feeling so powerless, like nature was against him. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for not being a good father. It occurred to him that he'd see future Trunks soon when the androids arrived. His hands balled into fists. His son would be there, but he wouldn't be _his_ son. It'd hurt even more.

There was a tap on the door. Vegeta composed himself. "What?"

Bulma opened the door and peeped her head in. "We need to talk."

"Not in the mood. Go away, woman."

She frowned and stepped inside. She gently shut the door behind her. She wore her frumpy Capsule Corp jumpsuit, but he still found her attractive. She crossed her arms and examined him.

"Vegeta, were you in the lab using the computer this week?"

He crossed his arms back at her. "Yeah, so? What's it to you? A man can get some entertainment now and then."

"Really? The miracle of ovulation and fertility is very entertaining? I'm sure it is. I just love to read about the egg traveling through the ovarian follicles to the oviduct."

Vegeta blanched. "What are you going on about? The what?"

"You must not have gotten to that part."

He rose and hung his legs over the side of the bed, coming to face her. "How the hell do you know what I looked up?"

"It's called Internet history and Internet cache, dummy. You can review sites that have been recently viewed."

There were still so many things he didn't know about how things worked on Earth. The human female body was a mystery as well. Ovarian follicles and oviducts? The idea that Bulma could somehow find out about his obsession had not occurred to him. Who knows what she thought about it.

"So, Vegeta, I know what you are doing, and I don't like it," she told him firmly. Her lips trembled a little.

She didn't want to have a baby then. Vegeta went inside himself, hiding the emotions that bubbled up. He wanted things to be like before. He'd screwed up somewhere; that was the only explanation. Something he'd done in this timeline messed it all up. She probably hadn't desired motherhood before either until it'd sprung upon her. She didn't know how it was with Trunks. She currently didn't know. But he did. If only he could forget.

"I'm on birth control, so you don't have to worry," she went on.

He stared blankly. "Birth control?"

"Yes, the pill. Do you not know about that either?"

Vegeta remained silent. She took that as a no.

"When a woman doesn't want to get pregnant she can ingest these pills that inhibit natural hormones that allow pregnancy," she went on.

In a sense of desperation, Vegeta stood up and grabbed ahold of her shoulders. He looked her directly in the eye with fire in his gaze.

"Are you telling me, woman, that you've been taking these blasted pills this entire time?" he growled.

She swallowed, a little taken aback. "Not at first. But mostly, yes. Aren't you pleased?"

"Pleased? Woman, you make me go insane! Why would you resort to this abnormal medication?"

Her bottom lip trembled again. "For you."

Abruptly, he let her go, stepped back, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair-flame. He tried to think of things from her perspective. Of course she would think she was doing him a favor. An outsider would obviously conclude that he never wanted a family. He was a warrior not a nurturing nursemaid.

"When I found out about what you've been thinking I had to take a lot into consideration," Bulma continued. "I actually for a split second thought about getting back at you and going off the pill. Teach you a lesson. But then, then . . . You'd leave, wouldn't you? Of course you'd leave. Then, I had to ask myself if I could stay with you knowing I'd never have a baby. And . . . Well, I guess I can deal with that." She let out a laugh that wasn't real. "My work comes first anyway. I don't really have the time."

It took a moment to take in what she had said. Bulma was afraid he'd leave her if she got pregnant. It all made sense. Before, he'd left her sporadically off and on, and she probably hadn't cared enough to take precautions. Or, she'd grown desperate enough to think having a baby would urge him to stick around. Him staying now made her fearful that it wouldn't last. Really, she had him figured out. If he wasn't from the future timeline, he _would_ leave if she brought a wailing brat into the world.

Bulma looked at him expectedly. She waited for a response.

He sighed. "You've got it all wrong, woman."

"I do?" she said softly.

It demanded a lot out of him to muster the strength to admit the truth out loud. "Yes. Bulma, for being a scientist you can be quite dim-witted. I wasn't trying to _avoid_ a pregnancy; I was trying to _create_ one."

Her cerulean eyes grew large and her mouth opened with awe. She went to the bed and sat down, most likely because she felt dizzy. "Huh? You want to have a baby. . . with me?"

Vegeta knew he had to protect himself before this got too mushy. "I'm the Saiyan Prince, of course I need an heir," he said.

She moved her hands in gestures as she spoke. "Let me get this straight, you were upset because I _wasn't_ getting pregnant? All this moping around is because I wasn't producing a Saiyan heir?"

"I don't mope. I thought one of us was infertile," he said.

The light suddenly grew brighter in her eyes. She laughed. "So, you really want to be parents?"

"Woman, I already told you so, didn't I?"

Bulma jumped up and threw her arms around him. He stiffened and his face grew warm. Kami, she was making him blush. The horror and goodness of women. She went even further and pecked him on the cheek.

"Vegeta, I love you," she said.

Great, now she was waiting for a reply. "I-I'm quite fond of you as well."

This seemed to delight her. "Are you sure you want me to stop taking birth control pills?"

"I told you that already. Do you have ears, woman? And, I'm here, aren't I? I'm not leaving like that fool, Kakarot, so get that crazy notion out of your damned head!"

She hugged him tighter, suffocating him. At that moment, Vegeta was scared to death, but also relieved. She was growing to trust him too much. The pressure of not letting her down was too much. Still, with hope for their family, it all seemed worth it.

What the hell? Why not give in? He was already lost to her. He awkwardly hugged her back.


	8. Chapter 7

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- I wish I had a thumbs-up button like facebook so I could like all your wonderful reviews

I figured it was time to get the couple out of the house. Plus, I thought it'd be fun to have some other characters included

Chapter 7-

It was a Sunday, and Dr. Brief closed the lab, saying he needed time to unwind. He and Mrs. Brief decided to go to the zoo, which was absolutely absurd considering they had their own menagerie at home. The place was quiet and still, leaving Bulma and Vegeta lounged out in the living room. She was much too close, her body cuddled up against him, an arm locked in his. He found it greatly uncomfortable. She told him to just relax, that no one else was there to see, and that he didn't need to stay stiff as a board all day. He couldn't help it, being in his nature, and a convention he wasn't going to strain himself to break.

The movie that flickered upon the flat screen television depicted a washed-out film with bad special effects. Vegeta watched the dragon and slayer rustle in a display that made him cringe at the fakeness.

"Okay, I've had enough. Turn this ridiculousness Earthling entertainment off right this instant," he demanded.

She lifted her head with confusion. "It is a classic."

"It's garbage is what it is."

"All right, all right," she said and grabbed the remote. She flipped through the channels. Cartoons, game shows, talk shows, reality shows . . . There was nothing on. She sighed and shut the screen off.

They sat in silence for a while. He contemplated touching her, given it was the perfect time to go all-out and make as much noise as they liked. But, they'd just had a mating session last night and even he was sated for the time being.

"What do you want to do?" Bulma questioned. "We could play a board game."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "I am not playing Scrabble, woman."

"Oh, fine."

They sat there again in a span of silence. He grew restless and shifted on the couch. He could grab a book. Or, he could train. None of it sounded appealing. There was something wasted about the day, as if he'd awoken bored. Maybe it was the damned house. He hadn't been out of it in what seemed like months.

"I've got to get out of this suffocating building," he said abruptly.

Bulma nodded. "Okay. Where do you want to go? Hopefully you won't say outer space."

He gave her a sharp look. She wouldn't let her fear of him leaving go. No, it was unjustified; he didn't feel like dealing with some inferior race other than Earthlings today. It really wasn't like him to be so overtaken by such ennui. He usually channeled all his energy into a drive for power. Even that was growing weary because he knew he was far more advanced than anyone at the moment.

Instantly, he stood up and declared, "I'm going to Kakarot's house."

"Hnn?" Bulma said. "You're going to see Goku? Why? You hate Goku."

Vegeta took in a breath. Actually, he'd never hated Kakarot. He found the man annoying, a disgrace to the Saiyan race, immature, and flakey. And, of course, there was the jealousy. Although, he never used the word to anyone, Kakarot and he had formed a friendship after their fusion while battling Buu. It was an interesting kind of friendship, but a friendship all the same. Vegeta guessed you could call it tolerance, respect, and camaraderie on his part, intermingled with a bunch of eye-rolling and rude comments in response to Kararot's senselessness. Once, Bulma called them rivaling children who didn't play nice together – but still played.

"It's time," he stated. She gave him a curious look at his pause. He elaborated. "For a sparring session. A test of strength."

Bulma smiled. "As long as no one gets killed, I think that sounds like a brilliant way to spend our Sunday."

"What do you mean 'our' Sunday?"

"Well, I'm going with you."

Vegeta narrowed his dark eyes. "You are not. This is between me and him _alone_. You'll distract me, woman."

For some reason the damned woman found all this amusing. She laughed. "I'm that distracting to you? Good to know. Lighten up, will you. I'll visit with Chi-Chi in the house and stay out of your way. Besides, you don't even know the way, do you? It'd be good to see Goku _after_ your fun. He never comes to visit us, and I need to give him a piece of my mind."

Vegeta actually did know the way to the Son's backwoods hovel. But, of course, he wasn't supposed to, so he had to allow her to accompany him.

The inclination to tell her not to put her faith in the flighty, irresponsible, and unreliable fool was tempting. Even though Kakarot overpowered him throughout his original life, and this made him feel weak, Vegeta prided in his own ability to stand by his family in the end. The fact that the imbecile had the audacity to leave his wife for years was simply sickening. Even Saiyans believed in a man's duty toward their women. He knew he couldn't divulge knowledge about the future to her, so his options of response were limited.

"I wouldn't put faith in that juvenile oaf," he simply said.

She gave him a warning glance. "When I'm done with him, I will have knocked some sense into him and he will come over more often," she said optimistically.

Vegeta wouldn't count on it. Kakarot was a lost cause.

Bulma pranced over to the edge of the room, prepared to venture into another. "I'll go fetch the plane capsule."

He went to the front door and turned in her direction. "That is unneeded. Get over here, woman, and grab ahold of me. We're flying."

This appeared to surprise her, and also enthuse her. She headed to him quickly and grabbed his arm. She tugged him outside. The weather was breezy but warm, the sun shining, and a few puffy clouds littered the blue sky. It was a perfect day for traveling by air. She grabbed ahold of him in a choke-hold, meeting his gaze with giddiness. Damned woman was too happy. All they were going to do was fly to the country, not have a Bahamas getaway.

He put an arm around her slim waist to offer support, concentrated his ki, and they floated off the ground. She felt warm against him, which gave him pleasure, but her grasp also made it a tad uncomfortable. She snuggled into him, taking the flight as a romantic retreat. Figures. His objective was to experience some martial arts action in a battle of ki comparison, and she thought this was the perfect opportunity to emotionally bond.

AN- Sorry this is so short, but it was either one massively long chapter that took days to write and update (that included their visit), or release this


	9. Chapter 8

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 8-

The flight turned into Bulma barking directions into his ear. He winced at her loudness and wished he could just tell her he already knew the way. The houses, buildings, and general civilization thinned. Trees and mountains sprang up. Movement of animals and dinosaurs emerged below. Birds and pterodactyls met them in the sky.

Vegeta scanned the scenery carefully, trying not to miss the small structure in the middle of nowhere. He spotted it, a small dot on a green plane.

They lowered slowly and he set Bulma down on her feet. She disengaged from him and fixed her windblown hair and smoothed down her short skirt.

The quaint dome and attached cottage with triangular roofs met them. Steam drifted from the fireplace of the dome, which gave it a cozy atmosphere. The shutters on the side window were open, letting in the summer breeze. Vegeta found it simplistic and old-world. He preferred the sophisticated and elaborate life. He deserved the best after all, being prince.

Bulma had the audacity to take his hand. He resisted.

"Oh, come on," she urged. "Don't be so shy."

He pulled back. "I'm not someone you show off to like a puppy you took in." He crossed his arms.

She shook her head.

The fact that they didn't call first amused him. The unexpected entrance was going to pass very entertainingly. They didn't get far before Kakarot's volatile wife took a step out. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore a blue dress with leggings underneath. The clown Kakarot had chosen well. Not as well as he had, however. Sure, Bulma could be high-strung too, but she wasn't a harpy. The woman barred the doorway with a broom handle.

"Bulma, I'm glad you came to visit. You are always welcome." Chi-Chi pointed a finger at Vegeta. "But, that one, I'm not so sure about. What are your intentions? I don't think I want you around my family."

Bulma grinned. She gestured to Vegeta. "He's harmless."

"I am not!"

"I just meant," Bulma said, "you mean no harm."

"Oh, I'll give Kakarot harm. But, he'll still breathe."

Chi-Chi's eyes widened. "Kakarot? You are going to hurt my Goku?"

Bulma reached out a hand to Chi-Chi. "Calm down. Vegeta only wants to spar with him."

Vegeta scowled. "I don't demand an entrance into your dwelling. I only demand to know where I will find the one you call your husband."

There was a moment where Chi-Chi considered this. She frowned deeply. "He's out with Gohan. I don't think I want you around my son. I've heard about you. You're that Vegeta person who wanted to steal the dragonballs for immortality."

Bulma gestured in his direction. "He is also the one who put Goku into a healing tank and gave Gohan armor," she pointed out.

Uncertainty passed over Chi-Chi. "I still don't trust him."

"As you shouldn't, woman," Vegeta said. "But, I'll find Kakarot whether you tell me his whereabouts or not."

This deflated Chi-Chi. She must have been familiar with ki detection. She gave Bulma a questioning look for assurance. She sighed and said, "They're fishing by the river."

Vegeta smiled. "You've been cooperative. Thank you."

Chi-Chi still sulked.

He turned to go.

Bulma called out, "Good luck, Vegeta!"

This time, he didn't need any luck. He'd prove to himself his true worth, and make her honored to be called his mate.

_The Son Household_

The women were left alone to do what women do best: chat about their men. Bulma found it refreshing to enter the tiny home. Sometimes Capsule Corp seemed cold, outsized, and too advanced. Not that she didn't appreciate style and money, for she loved the good-life, but now and then it was nice to escape it. Her friend, Chi-Chi, motioned her to take a seat at the wooden kitchen table. A red shirt lay on the tabletop along with a collection of thread and needles in a pincushion.

Chi-Chi settled down and examined the garment's hole in the sleeve. "Gohan just can't keep from tearing his clothes. We don't have the money to keep buying him new outfits. If only I'd get him to stay indoors and study more often."

Bulma giggled. Lately, she'd been in such a good mood, and everything made her happy. Except for when she'd gotten sick a few days ago, which was one of the things she wanted to discuss with Chi-Chi.

"Boys will be boys. They don't like to be cooped up, I guess. I think that's why Vegeta decided to come out here. He needs to let out some pent up energy."

Chi-Chi nodded. "It's the same with Goku. I can't get him to stay inside with me and just relax. He's always prancing around helping baby dinosaur eggs or doing whatever Kami knows what. Sometimes I'd like to have a lazy day with the whole family together."

The conversation stirred imaginations about what it would be like to have a family with Vegeta. And, possibly a boy, like Gohan. Their lifestyles were vastly different, but she was sure Saiyans were a lot of work no matter where or how you lived. Despite all the grumbling, she knew Chi-Chi treasured all the time she spent with Goku and Gohan, and that it all paid off.

"So," Chi-Chi began, "What is your relationship with the scoundrel?"

Bulma raised her head, took a breath, and parted her lips. Were there any phrases to depict her relationship with Vegeta? No. It was too complicated.

"Vegeta is . . . Vegeta. I really don't know how to describe it. We live together, and we're intimate. Whatever that really means, I don't know."

Chi-Chi took hold of her needle and thread and began to continue her sewing work. She pulled through the fabric, trying to make the rip disappear and the shirt presentable once again. "I don't see a ring on your finger, so I gather there are not wedding bells in the near future."

Bulma paled. "Vegeta isn't the marrying type."

Chi-Chi shook her head. "And Goku is? I think not. If you stand strong you can lure in anyone. We women need to take charge."

Bulma glanced down, uncertain. "Oh, I don't know. I'm not exactly the marrying type either. I've got my lab duties and . . . It doesn't matter."

"I don't believe you," Chi-Chi said, unconvinced.

"I'm not going to push him into anything he isn't ready for," Bulma said.

Shaking her head, Chi-Chi examined the sewing. The stitches were as good as they were going to be. "I don't understand it at all. Tell me, why are you with him? He seems so rude and coarse. What happened to sweet Yamcha?"

"Oh, Yamcha . . . Um, Yamcha was a big child. Very immature and unreliable, and I couldn't trust him. I don't know for sure, but I think he had his dessert on the side," Bulma said.

Chi-Chi gave her an apologetic look. Bulma couldn't help but think the other woman thought she was settling with Vegeta only because he was available and filled a vacancy left by Yamcha. That she felt sorry for her. It sorta pissed her off. Vegeta was a lot better than people took him for.

"Is this Vegeta really an upgrade?"

"He is to me," Bulma declared.

The small shirt was folded carefully and laid aside. "Well, you would know better than I would. I wish you the best."

Chi-Chi pushed out her chair and stood up. She proceeded to a cabinet and brought out a large pot, and brought it to the sink to fill with water. Then, she turned on the stove's burner. Chi-Chi grabbed a bag of potatoes and pulled out a paring knife.

"I hope you don't mind us stopping by like this," Bulma said, swiveling in her seat. She reached out in offering to help peel potatoes. Chi-Chi handed over a cutting board.

"I just went to the market, so we have plenty. If you say we can trust Vegeta he can stay too," Chi-Chi said.

The potato skin curled and fell, leaving white. Bulma rotated the vegetable. "There is something different about him lately. It's like he has settled down here, made peace with it. He's not at war with himself, me, or Earth. And, it is very strange, he even speaks about Goku without any animosity. Ever since. . . He woke up from this explosion accident while training, and he's been a different person ever since. Like he matured or something while he was out. I'm not complaining, obviously, but it makes me curious. He's so private and won't tell me what happened."

They both took the words in. Chi-Chi went onto another potato, busying herself.

"Maybe he fell in love," Chi-Chi said. Bulma was glad she'd stopped putting Vegeta down and trying to dissect their relationship. No one could figure it out, but her and Vegeta. There just weren't any words. You had to live it, breath it, be in it.

The temperature of Bulma's cheeks rose. "Love is a strong term. One he'd never use. But, I'm hopeful. Sometimes, I'm certain of it."

"I had to strangle Goku to use the L word too," Chi-Chi said. "If he could say he loved eggrolls or meat-buns, he could certainly use love in reference to me."

Because of Chi-Chi's explosive nature, Bulma wouldn't put it past her to actually strangle Goku. What a funny match they were, and yet, quite perfect.

There never seemed to be the right moment to slip in what she really wanted to talk about. She figured she just had to let it spill. Bulma finished digging out an eye of her potato. She pushed it to the collection of other clean potatoes.

"Chi-Chi, how did you know you were pregnant with Gohan?"

The dark-haired woman set her knife down and stared across the table. Bulma shyly met her eyes.

"You don't mean you are expecting a child with that man?"

Bulma's heart sped up. "I think so, but I still need to take a test. I'm experiencing symptoms such as tenderness in my breasts, frequent urination, nausea, and fatigue."

Chi-Chi leaned back, really taking in Bulma. "You're pregnant. We women have an intuition about such things. And, you are practically glowing."

If Bulma wasn't blushing before she certainly was now.

"What will Vegeta say about it?" Chi-Chi asked cautiously.

Bulma cracked a smile. "Actually, he is surprisingly very open to the idea. Very open." With that, Bulma began her tale about the misunderstanding a few months prior. She sensed that Chi-Chi was gathering bit by bit how untrue her bias against Vegeta was.


	10. Chapter 9

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- Okay, I originally planned on using Kakarot everytime it was in Vegeta's head, but I found it really annoying to write this chapter that way. So, I'm using Goku.

Chapter 9-

Vegeta flew overhead, following the river stream until he spotted a waterfall and two figures in orange near the water's bank. The spot was serene and peaceful, surrounded by a few trees and plateaus in the background. He floated down, landing softly. Neither noticed him at first, too distracted by Gohan's pull of the fishing pole.

The kid tugged and tugged until a large gray fish flung out of the water. Gohan jumped into the river and wrestled with the aquatic animal. From his position leaning against the trunk of a tree, Kakarot, the one who answered to Goku, clapped.

"Wow, that one is huge! You did great, son! Bring it back and we'll take it home to your mother."

The boy lifted the fish over his head, the fish still flapping. He noticed Vegeta first and almost dropped his catch. "Uh, Dad, are you expecting a visitor?"

"A visitor? No."

"Well, Vegeta is right behind you," Gohan said.

Goku turned, rose, and laughed in his usual way, hand behind his head. "Vegeta, didn't see you there."

It figured that the careless man would be distracted enough not to notice an approaching ki. Vegeta crossed his arms, his expression serious.

"What do you think you're doing? The androids and Cell are preparing to ambush this planet and here you are reclining about the countryside. It's downright negligent." He couldn't help but throw in that last part.

Goku's eyes enlarged. "Who is Cell?"

Vegeta growled at his slip-up. It was okay, he told himself, all he had to do was veer the conversation away from the new topic, bringing Goku's attention somewhere else. "Never mind that. I've been training under 500 Earth's gravity most everyday. What have you been doing? Prancing around with nature creatures?"

"500? Wow, Vegeta, that is amazing! I've just been doing the usual routine."

Vegeta imagined his usual being a few push-ups, punches, and lashes to mountains. Confidence rose up. This would be easy.

The boy, which Vegeta labeled as "Kakarot's son", exited the water and threw the fish upon the ground. He yanked the hook out of its scales. He looked over. "I've been working hard too. Dad says I'm close to turning Super Saiyan."

Goku smiled and went over to rustle his son's thick hair. "What d'ya say we head home for dinner? I'm starved. What about you, Vegeta?"

A scowl played on Vegeta's lips. "I didn't come for a social call, Kakarot. I want a sparring match. Now."

Goku blinked. He shrugged. "Okay, sure, but can't we eat first?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Goku whined. "My stomach just growled. It's not fair to fight on an empty stomach."

Vegeta winced at Goku's complaint. "I'm not heading back to the women until we've settled this."

Goku gave him an interested look. He asked a surprisingly perceptive question. "Did Bulma come with you?"

The question made Vegeta hesitate and stiffen. Why would Kakarot ask such a thing? Then the answer formulated in his mind. He'd already spoken to future Trunks, and therefore knew about his parentage.

"What if she did? What's it to you?"

Gleefully, Goku laughed. Vegeta got the impression that if they were closer in this timeline, he would have slapped him on the back. "Good for you."

"You're stalling. I want to spar _now_."

"But, I already said I'm hungry."

Gohan dug into the depths of his pants pocket. "Hey, Dad, I have a senzu bean Piccolo gave me. Here." The boy handed over the small greenish-grayish bean.

Pinching, the bean between thumb and index finger, Goku brought it up towards his lips. "Thanks, Gohan. Wait, do you have another one? It just wouldn't be fair unless Vegeta got one too."

Gohan shook his head. "I only have one."

Impatient, Vegeta said, "I don't need one of your damned beans! Hurry up and swallow the thing so we can get started!"

Goku told Gohan to go home to Chi-Chi. The boy protested at first but then obeyed, taking his fish with him. Goku finally chomped down on the senzu bean and then swallowed. The two males stood apart, facing each other.

"Where you wanna do this?" Vegeta demanded.

Goku glanced about, checking the scenery. "There are too many trees around here. I don't want to knock down a nest."

Oh for Kami's sake!

"Fine, fine, lead the way then. But don't choose a spot too far away."

He led him into the isolated desert, a mountainous and plateau covered area. As, Vegeta landed roughly upon the dry land, a sense of apprehension washed over him. Doubt rose. Too many times had he been overshadowed by the third-class Saiyan, overcome, and humiliated. What if his self-assurance was false? What if Kakarot beat the odds?

His hands balled into fists. Weak, he told himself. These notions were weak and cowardly. He would never call them what they were- fears. He was furious with himself for allowing such emotion.

This was his moment to shine. To beat the mighty Kakarot into the ground. Prove to himself that he deserved respect, that Bulma could call him her mate without shame, and that his father, wherever he was now, could watch with pride and acceptance. He would beat Kakarot, this lowly domesticated one named Goku, legitimately at least once before he died.

"Don't hold back," Vegeta ordered. The other warrior better take this seriously.

"If that's what you want, Vageta," Goku said.

"Let's settle this once and for all." He stood, hands gripped into balls, legs spread, gritting his teeth. He was ready.

Both Saiyans powered up, and a bluish glow surrounded their bodies. It pulsated with vibrancy and brilliance, two warriors about to embark on a mission for glory. Although Goku most likely found it a game, Vegeta's sense of the spar went far deeper. He desired to mend a scar that had never healed since his disgrace at never being good enough, despite himself working harder and, in his book, caring far more.

Vegeta moved first. He lifted off the ground, let out a battle cry, and charged at Goku. They met with lightning, bouncing from one place to another, and if a bystander had been a witness he wouldn't have been able to make out distinctly a thing. Vegeta let his fists fly at tremendous speed. Goku dodged them with ease. He kneed upwards, catching Goku in the gut, Goku slumped forward, and he slammed his elbow down on his opponent's back. The orange-clad Siayan fell face-first into the ground. Vegeta hovered overhead.

"Come on, Kakarot, I said to take this seriously. Show me Super Saiyan!"

Goku lifted and coughed. "But, Vegeta, that wouldn't be fair."

Vegeta released a yell of power. The blue aura that surrounded him turned yellow, and his normally black hair switched to blonde. "Fair enough now for you?"

"You've done it! You learned it too! Boy, Vegeta, you have been working hard."

"Shut up, would you, and meet me at full strength already."

Goku righted himself, collected his energy, and lit up gold as well. They hung in the air, level, eyeing each other. Both flung forward with their knees out, and they met with electricity. They grunted. Vegeta was growing sick of this fast. Child's play was all this was.

It was time to bring out the big stuff. Vegeta prepared a dirty fireworks technique. He aimed outward with his middle and index finger fused together. A ball of red energy exploded forward. Dammit, he thought, as Goku dodged the attack, leaving devastation only to the rocks.

They prepared ki blasts, yellow beams zipped through the sky. The two balls met. Each man groaned and grunted, in an attempt to win the advantage. They grew closer and closer, until the beams became only a single ball. Their palms buried into the energy, and they put more work into the burst. Sparks crackled, and the mass enlarged.

"You're not going to win this time," Vegeta declared.

Both men were hurled back from the intensity. Vegeta practically did a somersault in the air. He smashed against the ground, digging and creating a trail from the impact. He recovered faster than Goku and used the advantage to formulate the power needed for a galick gun. He put his hands together, curling his fingers, turning in the direction that Goku had landed. He gathered the ki together, thrust his palms out, and let loose a powerful blast of purple.

Goku rolled, the attack only hitting his side. Still, he hissed in pain, and a hole developed in his clothing.

Vegeta stomped forward. "Don't you have more?"

Goku stood up, holding his side, a little unsteady.

Yes, he wouldn't be Goku's second anymore. The day to take back what was his had come.

An instant was all it took for Vegeta to divert his attention, and Goku grew the upper hand. He teleported, lifted his legs and pounded both feet into Vegeta's chest. Vegeta flung backwards and smashed into a plateau. Pieces of rock and earth crumbled and dropped. He dug himself out, his head now pounding.

"Why you!"

Vegeta growled. He regained composure and rushed back into the scene. However, this had given Goku an extra few seconds. He took his hands and met his wrists together, centering. Realization came over Vegeta at what was happening too late.

"Kame- Kame- Kameha-meha!"

The only thing that saved him was advancing Super Saiyan into stage two. His energy bounced the kamehemeha back a bit, allowing himself the space to merely avoid it. He was a bit out of breath, but there wasn't time to spare.

"Wow! Amazing! Vegeta, is that some sort of new Super Saiyan level?" Goku inquired.

No time for words, Vegeta ignored him and instead moved. With a technique called atomic blast, Vegeta rushed and added punches before Goku comprehended it. He performed a roundhouse kick and then punched him hard in the back. To end it, Vegeta flipped upside down in the air and blasted a shining energy wave.

Goku knocked aside. Vegeta panted, but enthusiastic with adrenaline.

"Do you give up?"

There was no answer. Vegeta lowered to meet the ground. "Kakarot, do you give up yet?"

Still, nothing. Goku's body lay sprawled on his back, his legs and arms out at his side, unmoving. Something hit Vegeta in the chest. Worry? Maybe he'd used too much force. This was an earlier timeline after all. Possibly, Goku had not been physically able to handle the advanced attack mixed with extreme force.

No, Vegeta thought. Goku was stronger than this. He wouldn't let something like this put him down for good.

"Kakarot!"

Vegeta stepped closer. "Dammit, Kakarot, do you give up!"

Still, he did not stir. Vegeta's heart pounded and he growled in frustration. There was no way . . . Vegeta stopped near Goku and examined him up close. Scrapes marred his body, and he was quite dirty, but he wasn't in such a ruin to be dead.

"Kakarot, are you deaf? Get up and declare my victory!"

Goku coughed and the heaviness in Vegeta's lungs lifted. His eyes popped open.

"That took the air out of me," Goku said. "Can I have a moment to rest? Geez, you've gotten a lot stronger. I'm going to have to work hard to catch up."

A smirk of pride played upon Vegeta's lips. He loomed over Goku, above him both physically and in every other way possible. Finally.

"You do that," Vegeta said.

Goku lay there for a few moments before groaning and raising his shoulders. Vegeta reached out a hand to help him up. Goku smiled in thanks, a little surprised.

Something passed through them right then. Respect. Honor. Friendship.

Vegeta felt great. Better than ever.

The two men traveled back to the Son household mostly in silence. Goku was the only one to speak, pointing out trivial landscapes, dens, and bird nests. Vegeta grunted in response, uncaring. They walked closer than would be expected, and even though Vegeta crossed his arms in a barricade, anyone who knew them would have sensed the difference.

They were met by a fiery Chi-Chi.

Goku raised a hand in greeting. "I'm home."

She scanned Goku up and down. "Goku, you are in shreds! I can't mend that! You are a mess, and need a bath." She glared at Vegeta. "You're a disaster too!"

Goku just laughed in his signature way, came forward and kissed his wife. This miraculously shut the woman up.

They set the food outside for a picnic because Chi-Chi was adamant that they were too dirty for the house. Dinner consisted of korokke, Japanese croquettes, made with curry powder mixed with potatoes and ground pork. Sushi and rice were added to the side.

"Well?" Bulma asked next to Vegeta.

"Well what?"

"Did you win?"

He swallowed a spicy tuna roll. "Of course."

The pair exchanged a look that went deep. Her blue eyes spoke happiness and pride, and his dark ones included a message of, "that's right, you chose the best and don't forget it."

Vegeta reached over and pinched his chopsticks on the last spicy tuna sushi roll from Goku's plate. This was a habit he'd gained, a game the two played with each other, trying to steal food when the other wasn't paying attention. When Goku turned back he hollered in protestation.

"Hey, that was mine!"

"I didn't see your name on it."

"It was on my plate! I was saving it for last."

With that, Goku leaned across the table, and stole the last maki sushi off Vegeta's own plate in an act of boldness.

"What has gotten into you two?" Bulma declared, watching them carefully.

Goku mumbled something unintellectual while chewing. Vegeta grunted in his only reply. Bulma's eyes darted back and forth, her brain working hard to figure them out.

Goku and Vegeta ate with an ostentatious display. It was like they were in another competition. Goku won this round, his stomach even more of a bottomless pit. It didn't matter to Vegeta because he'd already won where it mattered most.

They prepared to leave shortly after eating because Chi-Chi grew concerned that Bulma had hardly touched her food. She asked her friend if she was feeling well and Bulma said she just couldn't handle a lot. Chi-Chi made Bulma drink a cup of herbal tea, bringing them inside, forgetting about the dirt. She then barked at Vegeta to get Bulma home to rest.

Goku was too curious about the matter, and hung around Bulma during the whole thing. Vegeta leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, a tad aloof.

"That's the same tea you drank when you were pregnant with Gohan," Goku said, too observant when he shouldn't be, and too unobservant when he should be.

Chi-Chi shot her husband a look.

"You don't think . . . Oh! That's great!"

Vegeta knew what was going through Goku's head. He'd already met with future Trunks and knew that this was all in the plan. Bulma began to turn to see if Vegeta had caught on, but he ducked into the next room before she saw. He wasn't going to confront the matter in front of others.

He sat on the couch and sensed into the kitchen. He locked onto Bulma's presence. Her ki burned bright and warm, although low in frequency to his own. He scanned her, searching for something else, a weaker energy, but came up empty-handed. So, maybe she wasn't, he thought. He brooded alone while the others chatted in the next room, laughter filtering forth.

They left by air once again. He hesitated as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Was it empty? Or was there something there? He was too unsettled to check, the vacancy of his previous hunt still fresh and wounding.

About halfway there, Bulma squirmed a little. "Let me down, Vegeta."

"Woman, we are 8 kilometers in the air."

"Put me down now, or you will be sorry!"

What had gotten into her he had no idea. She'd been distant the entire flight, unlike the ride there. She turned her head away and Vegeta descended.

"Gently," she orderd.

He tried to land as softly as possible. They'd landed in a housing development with houses that seemed pretty identical. A dog was chained up nearby and barked loudly at the intruders. Vegeta wanted to wring its neck. Bulma quickly disengaged and rushed to a bush near someone's mailbox. The Tanaka family.

Bulma held a hand over her mouth until she got to the bush and then wretched. Vegeta tilted away when he caught gross chunks of recent potato and rice run into the greenery. She gagged and moaned, and then sat down on the curb of the driveway, head in her hands.

"Are you better now, woman?" Vegeta asked, trying to sound soothing, but was probably unsuccessful.

"Not really," she croaked.

He took a chance and asked. "So, is it true?"

She lifted her head, her eyes watery. She wasn't dumb and knew what he meant. She must have figured it out that he had heard what transpired earlier. "I- think so. . . I hope so."

He didn't have the heart to tell her he hadn't felt anything when he'd searched for another life energy. He couldn't say it out loud because that would make it true. She watched him, expectantly, probably reading him. Her watery eyes intensified and then looked down, disheartened. Why did the woman have to be so smart? She put pieces together too easily. That he could read ki. That he couldn't read another ki now.

And, then it came. A tiny form of existence that peeked out in protest, as if to say, "Hey, I am here, I was just playing hide and seek". He cued in, taking in the small ball of ki that pulsated faintly. He understood why he missed it before. It was so small, hardly there. He never would have spotted it from a further distance, and he was only a few feet away. The signature was familiar, if not as strong as he remembered, and relief spread over Vegeta from head to toe.

His son. Trunks.

He made a noise. Someone may have taken it for a sob, but no, Vegeta denied it. The sound was simply a voice of passionate relief.

"I feel him," he breathed.

Bulma stirred. She gazed up, her eyes still swimming.

"He's really small and weak. I'll have to toughen the kid up," he said.

Bulma fell into laughter and real tears, hugging her knees. She was happy, and he was glad and proud and thankful. The stupid mutt kept barking, but the sound fell away.

This was the best day of Vegeta's entire life, first or present.

AN- Wow, that was the longest chapter! Hope you enjoyed it. I came up with another idea for this story. So, I kinda have two real plots that will be added into all this fluffiness. I just gotta get there.


	11. Chapter 10

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- So, one more fluffy chapter and then I'll get into some action stuff

Chapter 10-

The androids and Cell grew closer, and it became apparent to Vegeta that Trunks would not be born beforehand. Bulma talked his ear off about trimesters and approximate due-dates. He wasn't interested in details such as these, but he wanted to get it over with and have the brat there where he could see him in physical form. It wasn't that he was eager for baby smell, spit-up, or wailing, but he longed for the tangible sight of his son. Sometimes a sense of disorientation met him in the morning and for an instant he was sure he'd awoken back in the future, frail, dying, with a gaping hole where his primary family used to be. Having Trunks there would solidify things.

Two giddy females gushing over a piece of paper was far too concrete at that moment. He winced. They stood near the kitchen island, Bulma leaning against it, while her mother examined a white piece of scrap paper. Vegeta wondered how Mrs. Brief could even read without opening her eyes.

"These are wonderful. I love the name Y-Front," Mrs. Brief said. She handed the paper back to Bulma, who glanced over her list again.

Vegeta huffed, stomped over and snatched the paper away. Bulma said, "Why hello there, Vegeta, you could have just asked."

There was no way his kid was going to be named such a nerdy name as Y-Front! He scanned over the list of names with displeasure and frustration.

Boy Names: Drawers, Bloomers, Boxers, Pants, Shorts, Underpants, Undershorts

Girl Names: G-string, Girdle, Panties, Teddies, Thong, Brassiere

Neutral: Y-Front, Smalls

Vegeta stared, horrified. These were terrible! Neither Trunks nor Bra were even listed. He grabbed a pen from the writing utensil holder next to the calendar and wrote Trunks boldly at the bottom and circled it. Then, he passed the paper back to Bulma.

"Trunks? Hey, that's not bad. Good thinking Vegeta."

Ridiculous woman. It'd been her that decided on the name before, because he'd been 99% uninvolved in the matter, hardly caring about their child's upbringing in the slightest. If it were up to him he'd have stayed with Saiyan royal custom, passing along the name Vegeta down the line, but he'd given her full-reign, declaring that all responsibility fell on her. There was no way he was changing his son's name now to her whimsical whims, and he felt inclined to step in and act out the father's duty of making sure his son didn't grow up with even more of a geeky name.

She trailed after him, meeting him near the living room. He looked her up and down, taking in how rounded she'd become. She'd switched to maternity clothes, and she constantly complained about how unsexy she appeared, but he still found her very attractive.

"What if it's a girl," she said.

His expression remained firm. "It's a boy, and we're naming him Trunks."

"But, it might be a girl. Would that be okay?" She seemed worried, wondering if he'd accept a female into the household as willingly as a male.

Images of the whirlwind that was Bra flashed in his mind. She'd been quite the work. First, he didn't know how to handle her because she couldn't train as a boy could, and this put him at a loss. She grew extremely spoiled, always demanding things, and talking back. Speaking her mind. She took after her mother. Then she started asking for money all the time to shop and go out with boys. She made him dizzy. Then again, she had a way of making him feel important and powerful. She looked up to him. Even though she'd never been an expert in martial arts, she'd taken an interest, and watched her father in awe. 'You're really strong, Papa'. He'd always wanted to make her proud.

"Course," Vegeta said.

She wasn't convinced. "But, you always call the baby a 'him'."

"Because it _is_. The Saiyan royal family always has males first." He added that last part in as an excuse, it also being fact.

Bulma nodded in acceptance. Her face changed, flinched, and she touched the side of her stomach. Vegeta's eyes narrowed.

"Is everything all right?"

She nodded again. "It's just kicking. Hard. Seems to think my stomach is its personal gravity room."

That's my son, Vegeta thought. There was no doubt that it was male if it gave her pain like that.

She reached out and took his hand. He scowled, not liking to hold hands, even when in secret. She directed his palm over the bulge of her stomach in attempt to get him to feel the child move. Reflex took over and he pulled back. Déjà vu kicked in. She'd tried this act before when she'd been pregnant with Bra. It'd failed and she'd given him that hurt look she was now.

"It's okay," she whispered. She held her stomach as if protecting it. "I understand." She obviously didn't because a bit of wetness hung at the edge of her eye.

He sighed. "Look, woman . . . Bulma . . . "

"It's okay," she said.

"I'm not used to this." He still wasn't, even now. Being affectionate, touching, showing that he cared. Saiyan ways mixed with Frieza's abuse ran deep. He growled. "Let me try again."

Blinking at him, she slowly moved her arms, exposing her belly out to him. Hesitantly, he placed his right hand upon where Trunks resided. Nothing happened at first but Bulma repositioned him. A strong foot slammed against her skin. It was enough to falter Vegeta's heart. If he was searching for realism, here it was. Trunks was definitely alive in there.

Later that week, Bulma and her mother prepared the nursery. They took down the kitten painting, removed the queen-sized bed, and replaced them with a white crib and star mobile. Vegeta could look in the room with peace after this. Bulma caught his tranquility as he observed the changes and he didn't like the wheels that turned inside her head.

His wife . . . No, she wasn't his wife yet, he reminded himself, was too smart for her own good. What if she somehow put things together?

It would be much too humbling to admit he'd come from the future to be with his family again. The fact made him sound like a love-sick pining weakling who crumbled when they slipped away- someone who couldn't stand up on their own two feet. No, he did not want her to find out. Besides, knowing things that others didn't made him feel important. Powerful. He had the upper-hand.

The women began to baby shop, bringing home massive amounts of toys and clothing, and other accessories that Vegeta couldn't even identify. Bulma found a need to include him in her selections, which was quite annoying.

She held up the hideous navy cap with pointy ears. That hat always made him sick.

"Isn't it the most adorable thing?" she asked.

Crossing his arm, leaning against the doorframe, he said gruffly, "That will look horrible with lavender hair."

"Lavender what?"

Really, he needed to be more careful. All these slip-ups could catch up with him.

"Nothing. Never mind. Do what you want, I don't care." He exited the room before she could ask more.

Time grew closer and closer to the android and Cell invasion. Vegeta trained even harder, although it was unneeded. He reached 600 times gravity which made the generator a little shaky and of course, broke. Bulma was out at a conference with her father, so he was left to amuse himself all day before they got back to fix the thing. He resorted to what every lazy Earthling did and turned on the television. The news came on and discussed the economy and stock market. This did not concern him, Capsule Corp holding a monopoly and in no way going under, so he was about to flip to another channel when the story changed quickly to something that did concern him.

The television showed Bulma exiting the clinic from her last appointment. It had been the one that included an ultrasound, and proof that the baby was indeed a boy. He'd gloated when she'd divulged the information. Footage followed the quite-pregnant Capsule Corp successor, and the reporter commented about the mystery behind the pregnancy. The camera tagged Bulma as she walked across the parking lot towards her car. Her head held high as questioned bombarded her. "Where is the father in all this? Why does he not accompany you to your appointments? How does this affect your work? Will you be taking a sabbatical?" His blue-haired woman darted the inquiries and continued to her vehicle.

The news discussed this silence with hypothetical gossip. They even knew about her break-up with Yamcha and that the paternity was most likely not him. The reporters, a man and woman, spoke together about how Bulma had never been seen in public with another man since Yamcha. They also wandered if the father had been some one-night-stand.

Vegeta turned the tv off and fumed. Damned paparazzi. How dare they disgrace their family like that? As if her life was some sort of entertainment, and that they could assume the worse.

He sat back against the couch cushions, arms folded, and sulked. He really didn't like Bulma having to be put through this. His first thought was to fly over to the station and blow it to smithereens. Not a very sane idea if he wanted to keep on good terms with his wife. There it was again. That label. It just wouldn't go away. She'd knocked it over his head too much, him being her husband.

Maybe it was time to get the whole marriage thing out of the way. It hadn't been too painful last time, just a trip to the courthouse to sign a few papers. His frown deepened. He remembered how Bulma tried not to show it but she'd given hints of disappointment at never having a formal ceremony. When Bra got married she doted over the girl and spoke about how it was the 'most important day of a woman's life'. Part of him considered going through the torture just to avoid those regrets. He shuddered at the thought of wearing a tuxedo and having to stand before a giant crowd of people, which would most likely include distant relatives and work buddies. People he didn't give a hoot about. Having to repeat mindless drivel about love and sickness and health. Not that he wouldn't mean them, but that he wasn't about to admit them outloud to strangers.

No, he would not commit himself to such agony. The courthouse would be sufficient.

Still, he couldn't get the haunting picture of Bulma's eyes when she talked with her daughter about how special marriage was. Grrr . . . There had to be something he could do to show Bulma the specialness of their bond without the humiliation of a public display.

Vegeta stood up and went in search of Mrs. Brief. He found her in the garden with a watering can. She hummed as she fed her plants and flowers.

"I need money," Vegeta declared.

Mrs. Brief lowered her can. She smiled. "Oh, Vegeta, how much were you needing?"

"I . . . uh. . ." He had no idea what an engagement ring cost. All he knew was that they were expensive. "Possibly in the 100,000 zeni range."

"Why, Vegeta, that is quite a large sum of money. What is it for?"

He grumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"It's for Bulma."

A bright grin formed on Mrs. Brief's face. "If it is for my little girl no amount of money is too large. You wouldn't be thinking of asking my daughter to get married, would you?"  
Dammit, he hoped he wasn't blushing. Even the mother in this family could figure things out at times.

"Is it really true?" she pressed. "Bulma will be so happy!"

He allowed his future mother-in-law to accompany him to the jewelry store only because he had no idea what he was doing. The store clerk reached behind glass, bringing out dozens of choices. Vegeta didn't care. Any one of them would do. But, he wanted one that would satisfy his mate, so he turned to Mrs. Brief.

They ended up picking one of the most pricey and elegant rings. It had a silver band, large princess-cut diamond, with accompanied sidestones. Vegeta was thankful Mrs. Brief was along because she knew her daughter's finger size. With all those rings Bulma bought throughout the years, he'd never once looked at the size. The clerk handled the ring with carefulness, and prattled on about possible extras such as changing the color of a stone, selecting a different box, or engraving a message on the band.

At first, Vegeta pushed all these options aside as unneeded, but then he came to a decision. "An engraving," he said roughly.

"Ah, Sir, a wise choice. We can have that done within the hour." The man took out a form. "What would you like it to say?"

"Woman."

The man scrawled the word. "That's all?"

Vegeta smirked. "Yes."

_Later that Night_

Bulma was exhausted when she arrived home. The convention had worn her out, not to mention all the gymnastics little Trunks did during the presentations. She passed the bathroom on the ground floor, dismissing the thought of a bath that night. She made her way to their bedroom, which used to be hers alone. They'd switched from his room when she persuaded him that this room was larger and closer to the new nursery.

She stepped in and began to remove her socks. She prepared to slide down her pants when she felt the breeze from the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. Her attention shifted and she could make out Vegeta's unmistakable shadow through the curtains. Her lips lifted. He'd been waiting for her.

The night sky full of stars met her as she neared him. They shone with brilliance tonight despite the city's electricity. Vegeta sat in a deck-chair before a round table, lounging back, flamed hair pressed against the side of the house, arms folded in his usual way. He'd fallen asleep, but stirred at her arrival.

"We can go to bed now," she said.

He came full awake. "Not yet. Sit."

She came over, sort of amused at the cuteness of him. He wore her favorite black muscle-shirt, the one that displayed his ripped arms best. Maybe she wasn't so tired after all.

Bulma sat in the other duplicate chair. She smiled across at him. "What is it?"

The light was dim, coming from the bedroom lamp, but she caught the nervousness in his dark eyes. His hands fumbled with something she couldn't see below the table. "I don't know how this is done."

She began to get up, to go to his side, to see if she could help.

"Sit back down, woman!"

She did. Geez, he didn't have to yell. The exhaustion came back. "Look, Vegeta, I'm tired, so if you wouldn't mind hurrying this up."

His eyes flared. "I'm doing this for you so you better behave during it."

Confused, she waited in silence.

It took him a moment before he drew up a small velvet box. Her breath caught. He pulled up the lid and held out a diamond ring that sparkled in the darkness. "Woman, marry me." It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

This wasn't Bulma's dream proposal, but then again, Vegeta wasn't her dream prince. He hadn't gotten on one knee, declared his undying love. But, he was a prince, her prince. Her Vegeta.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she said.

Satisfied, he passed the box over. He didn't know the Earth custom that the man was supposed to slide the ring on the woman's left finger. That, or he wasn't going to go the trouble. Either way, Vegeta was Vegeta, and Bulma had to take him for what he was.

"Can I look at it in the light?" she asked.

He grunted.

She stood up and went over to the entrance to take out the ring and hold it up. It was beautiful. Elegant, feminine, and shiny. She was about to put it on when she noticed the inscription inside the band. Woman.

She felt Vegeta come up behind her. The strong aura that came off him ran over her, making her shiver.

Never before had the intensity of his label 'woman' really sunk in before. At first she took it for degradation, putting her in her place. Then, she knew it was just Vegeta being Vegeta, doing what he did. And then it became a claim. My woman. But now, as she took in the characters that made up the declaration, tucked under the band for safe-keeping and secrecy, she understood the depth of it. Everytime he said woman, there was something hidden beneath the surface. A promise. A vow. Love.

He'd never said he loved her, but it'd been there, spoken in another way.

Bulma slid the ring onto her finger. She still sensed him behind her, but she couldn't turn around. She didn't want him to see the tears.

Strong hands spun her around. He didn't comment on the tears, instead taking her hand and examining it.

"Looks good," he said.

This made her cry even more. He loves me, she thought. She could feel it, breathe it, and taste it. She brushed her eyes with her free hand. Silly girl.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't expect some human ceremony, got it?"

She laughed. "I didn't expect it."

He'd done so much already, buying a ring. She imagined him going to the store to pick it out and even more gratefulness arose. Was there something she could do in return?

"What about a Saiyan ceremony?" she asked, curiously.

Surprised, he paused, considering it. "Impossible."

"Why?"

"Neither of us have a tail. The binding ceremony involves, involved, joining tails."

"Oh." She bit her lip. She'd never considered what he'd lost when his tail had been cut off. The Saiyan tails were a huge part of their identity.

"I guess I could say the oath," he said. He pulled her back under the stars. "Normally, we'd do this in ape form while looking up at the moon."

Vegeta wrapped his arm around her. It was a little awkward with the enlarged belly. "I'd position my tail around you as I spoke, a sign that you are my possession."

She bit back a retort about being anyone's property. But this was another planet, an alien rite. She'd show respect.

"This is my mate, Bulma Brief," he said. "I have deemed her worthy to stay by my side throughout this life. She is strong and praiseworthy, and therefore, no one else shall claim her. We shall bare children and continue the Saiyan race. We are prideful of our bondage and are not ashamed. Anyone who trespasses against us will be victim to our wrath."

Bulma didn't really know how to react. "Is that it?"

"The male says the vow, and the woman agrees to it. I won't make you."

She found her voice. "No, I'll agree. Anyone who trespasses against us can know my wrath," she teased.

He was as serious as ever. "Saiyans tend to be short and to the point. It isn't feely like the words you have on this planet."

"Words aren't everything," she said. She ran a hand through his hair and drew close to his ear. "Can we do one Earthling thing?"

"What's that, woman?"

"When a man and woman are declared married they kiss."

Vegeta allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck and lean in. She shut her eyes and touched his lips. Shocks aroused her body as his tongue slipped in to dance with hers. She moaned and rubbed his shoulders. She felt him smile in the midst of the act.

They staggered backwards into the bedroom.

"I'm awake now, my husband," Bulma said.

AN- I could have described what went on in the bedroom but my hand hurts and this is a long chapter as it is.


	12. Chapter 11

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- We're entering the android and Cell saga. Be prepared for some changes, unique outcomes, and new developments.

Chapter 11-

The bluff that overlooked the island city Sasebo was the perfect meeting point for the Z Fighters. Bulma and Vegeta made it there first, touching down lightly. Bulma straightened her wind-blown shoulder-length hair and smiled over at her husband. The ring on her finger felt new, her skin still not used to the band's imprint. She rubbed the diamond between her pointer and thumb, excited and joyful. She couldn't wait to show off her ring and extremely large belly. Not that she was enthusiastic about being fat, but in having a son with Vegeta. Boy, would everyone be surprised.

Vegeta scowled at her, still not happy about her insistence on coming. She stepped over and pecked a kiss on his cheek. His eyes roamed around, making sure no one was in sight and in danger of embarrassment. She ran her right hand through his upward hair.

"Stop the scowling, your face might freeze that way." He huffed. "Come on, I'm just gonna watch from here. I'll leave when I spot the androids," she said.

"Bulma, you are too stubborn for my liking," he said. He took her by the arm and pulled her over to a flat rock. He pushed her down. "Sit, woman, you are much too pregnant to be standing."

It was a trait in the Brief household to be too curious for their own good. Bulma just couldn't stay home while her husband and friends fought a war against the androids. Even though Vegeta assured her it would be no problem for him, she had to be there and know what was happening.

Vegeta leaned against the wall of the hill. He crossed his arms in wait, soon looking impatient. It still amazed her how attentive he could be. How very thoughtful to find a rock for her to sit on. She admired him, looking very sexy in his skin-tight blue uniform and chest armor. Her mind played with fantasies of what they could do on the bluff if they truly were alone and the androids weren't about to strike. Baby Trunks took that moment to pound into her, as if saying 'inappropriate thoughts, mom, keep it PG'.

Vegeta frowned extra hard at her gasp.

Smiling, she said, "He's just strong. Our little Saiyan Warrior."

Vegeta nodded. She read his complicated emotions of pride for his son's power, yet concern for her welfare. She could take it. She might not be an alien but she could bare the pain. It was nothing compared with what she'd have to go through shortly during birth.

Soon, Vegeta perked up and stood up straight. An orange blur emerged in the sky. Bulma shielded her eyes with her cupped hand and tried to make out who it was. She hoped it was Goku but instead discovered it was Yamcha. A lump formed in her throat. Was she ready for this? As her ex came in for a land, her heart warmed as Vegeta moved a tad closer as if marking his territory.

The man's eyes made contact with Vegeta first and they had a show-down. Slowly, Yamcha looked over and took her in. She held her stomach possessively. So many things passed in that moment of silence. Many comprehensions came upon Yamcha and she knew he finally realized they were over for good. Beside her, Vegeta's hand twitched. He wouldn't actively take her hand, but she was satisfied at his impulse. Yamcha zeroed in on the wedding band and clenched his jaw.

"You're looking good, Bulma. I see many things have happened in my absence," Yamcha said.

Bulma nodded, a little sad; not for having things turn out this way, but for ever being with Yamcha in the first place. They were never any good for each other. She'd been such an immature girl in need of a boyfriend. Any boyfriend.

Her fingers stroked her abdomen, trying to sooth the active baby. Yamcha found this sickening, especially when she grimaced. She imagined that he found it appalling that she'd let an alien baby attack her from the inside. She continued to touch her stomach with love, not in the bit ashamed.

Awkwardness fell over the triad. Luckily Tien Shinhan touched down. Yamcha turned his attention toward the other man, tearing himself away from the open wound that was Bulma, her newfound extraterrestrial husband, and abnormal pregnancy.

"I'll be back," Vegeta declared.

Bulma and he shared an exchange. Maybe he needed space between Yamcha, or he was bored. He'd be back for the fight. She let him go. Yamcha's shoulders relaxed.

"It's Goku," Yamcha said, abruptly.

Tien scanned the air. "Where?"

"There," Yamcha said, pointing. A few seconds passed. "I told you,Tien, it's him. Hey, Goku, down here!" Yamcha waved towards the new arrivals: Goku, Gohan, Piccolo, and Krillin.

Arms outstretched, Gohan and Krillin flew close together. Their faces lit up when they noticed the greeting. Gohan's wild black hair flared upward in the wind. They tilted from horizontal to vertical and dropped. Yamcha continued to wave, more wildly now, yelling at them. Bulma stood up and moved her arm back and forth as well. She laughed, eager to visit with the rest of the gang.

Both of the airborn male expression's turned surprised as their feet met land, especially Krillin's. Goku and Piccolo followed suit behind them.

"You're late," Yamcha affirmed. "What took you guys so long?"

"Yeah," Bulma said. "Vegeta got bored and wandered off."

Goku, the tallest, looked past in her direction. His eyes became wide circles as she stepped forward. "Bulma."

"It is Bulma," Gohan said. "She's so huge."

"Gee, thanks," she said in sarcastic return.

Gohan laughed. "Sorry, Bulma, Mom said you were expecting a baby but I didn't know you'd look so round."

"Hey, no one told me Bulma was pregnant," Krillin said, a little left-out.

"Oh, must have slipped my mind with the androids."

"Mine too," Goku said.

Bulma took in her friends, pleased to see them all together after so long. "Hey, guys, wow, you've been working out, haven't you?"

A sound of wonderment came from Krillin. He couldn't take his gaze off her pregnant form.

Goku came forward. "Bulma, what in the world do you think you're doing out here?"

"I've come to watch you fight, silly," she replied. Geez, he was as bad as Vegeta. "Don't worry, I'll just stay for a while and then I'll go home."

Krillin ducked his bald head, very confused. "I hope you don't think I'm nuts for asking but what's the deal with being pregnant, Bulma?"

Bulma patted her stomach. "Oh, this? It's just a little something I picked up during these past three years."

"Is it really true that Vegeta is the father?" Gohan asked. "I bet he is."

"It's true," Yamcha answered for her, depressingly. He crossed his arms and huffed. "Wouldn't be my kid."

Krillin's shiny head tilted to the side. His mouth fell open. "Huh?" Poor Krillin was too out of the loop.

"It's a shock, huh?" Yamcha put his hands on his hips and walked away, over to the bluff's wall. He couldn't face more of this conversation.

Goku chuckled. He stepped to her and casually poked her belly. "Not really. Right, Trunks?"

The short Gohan and Krillin turned toward each other in question. Krillin's eyes begged for Gohan to explain all this. The boy shrugged.

"Now, who told you that, Goku? The name was a secret, I was going to surprise you guys," Bulma said.

With that, Goku backed up and laughed hysterically. He panicked. "Well, actually, I thought I'd just take a guess. His ki kinda feels like a Trunks." He continued to laugh and spit as he talked.

"You guessed his name on the first try."

"Well, yeah, what are the chances of that, huh? Maybe I'm psychic." Goku continued to laugh nervously.

Yamcha sat down and put his head in his hands. Krillin balled his hands in fists at his side and muttered, "Outrageous, Vegeta is a father." Gohan stared, amazed, possibly considering that his father had a new super-power.

Bulma wasn't convinced with Goku's statements and knew something was up with his antics. "You've been talking with Vegeta, haven't you? He told you about Trunks' name before he told me. That is so rude! The parents are supposed to keep it a secret and then tell people together."

"Um, yeah, that's it!" Goku said. He tried to control his laughter.

Gohan pointed at Bulma's left hand. "That's a pretty ring."

"Whoa, is that an engagement ring?" Goku asked.

She held up her hand outward to show off her ring. "No, it's a wedding ring."

Yamcha groaned from the side. Krillin muttered forlornly something about being one of the last ones to get married to himself. Gohan oohed and ahhed over the ring, getting up on his tip-toes to examine it.

"Vegeta and you are married!" Goku shrieked.

"Yep." Her grin was large.

Piccolo, the silent type, finally walked into the group. His green and pink arms were folded and he narrowed his eyes. Classic seriousness, he said, "Well, since we're on the subject, where is Vegeta?"

All attention fell on Bulma, expectantly. She looked upwards. "I don't have a clue. He left and said something about being back soon. Must have needed more time to train."

At that very moment, making a grand entrance, Vegeta swooped down to join them. He stopped behind Bulma and glowered at the group. "I'll have you know, I had to take a piss."

Bulma's lips twitched. Figures he'd take that long to simply go to the bathroom.

"Hey, Vegeta," Goku greeted. "What took you so long? You coulda just used that hill over there." Goku gestured to the left into the wilderness.

Vegeta cringed. "Unlike you third-class savages, Kakarot, we nobility aren't uncivilized."

Bulma couldn't hold it in anymore. She burst into giggles at the thought that Vegeta had to travel to the city to find a decent toilet. Goku and Gohan joined in, and soon Krillin too. A pink tint formed on Vegeta's face. So cute, she thought.

Tien explained to Goku that he left Chiaotzu with Master Roshi. He feared the tiny guy wouldn't make it in a fray so dire. Goku nodded in acceptance and understanding. Vegeta's dark mood grew gloomier and Bulma knew he was beginning to regret letting her come out.

Gohan glanced over at Bulma's white and green wristwatch. "What time is it?"

"Well . . ." She glanced down. "According to my watch, it's almost 9:30."

Stern, Goku said, "Bulma, you better get out of here before it's too late. Those androids are going to be here in half-an-hour."

Not concerned, Bulma said, "Don't worry, I just want to see what these things look like and then I'll go."

Vegeta grunted. "Don't waste your breath, Kakarot," Vegeta said. "She refuses to listen to reason."

Bulma pointed her thumb behind her at him. "Mr. Grumpy thinks I'm going to pass out or something."

"Didn't I tell you to sit, woman!"

"He's right, Bulma, you really should take it easy. You should just go home and play it safe," Goku said.

"You guys are too paranoid. I'm fine. But, if you insist, I'll sit down." She went over to the rock and settled down. "Better?"

The act pacified Vegeta slightly, but he still seemed displeased. Geez, it wasn't like the androids were going to target a lone woman on a bluff. They'd be in the crowded metropolis area where they could target multiple people. She wasn't putting her child or herself in any bit of danger. The men were just too cautious.

They took turns scouting the area but no one could feel a presence. Gohan stated that androids probably don't have a ki. Yajirobe showed up in a hovercar and handed over a brown bag of senzu beans to the group. He quickly retreated in his vehicle again, declining to fight. His blue car zipped away into the clouds, only to explode in maroon smoke. Everyone jumped in shock.

"Whoa, what was that?" Goku exclaimed.

"It's Yajirobe!" Krillin said.

Bulma stood but Vegeta pushed her back down. "Stay put, woman."

"But . . ." she began.

Piccolo growled. He stood strong, his white cloak blowing behind him. "You guys, up there, it's the androids. I see them. "

Two faint dots in the sky whizzed down towards the city. The fighters sprang into action, ready for business. Bulma stood up again, making her way to the edge of the bluff. "Hey, I didn't get a good look!"

"And you won't!" Vegeta took her hand, too frustrated to care who saw, and tugged her back to the rock. He pushed her firmly down with two hands. "Obey me! Give me that cell phone of yours and I'll take a blasted photo!"

"Hey, would you?"

Vegeta groaned. "You infuriate me to death, Bulma!"

"And you frustrate the hell out of me as well," she replied.

"I'm going." He turned.

"Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"

"No."

"Good luck," she called.

The Z Fighters left, leaving her there by herself. She sighed and rested in place on the rock. She leaned back and played her fingers over her extended stomach. At least she had Trunks as company. It aggravated her that she always had to stay behind. And, now that Vegeta was her husband she wanted to follow even more. Oh, the pathetic human life of a frail pregnant human girl.

AN- I didn't know how to end the chapter.


	13. Chapter 12

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- The chapters aren't coming as fast because of two things. First, it is growing closer to college finals and I have projects. Second, I have to rewatch some DBZ for this part, as well as read episode summaries. This arc is not solely from my imagination, and so it is harder to write. Once I get past the android and Cell stuff, I'll be back to my creation again, and so updates will probably speed up.

BTW, I have Vegeta do destructo disk (Krillin's attack). I don't remember him doing this attack, but the DBZ wiki says that he does do this at some point, so I went with it.

Chapter 12-

Sasebo, the only city on Amenbo Island, bustled with normality. Cars of different colors and size strolled through the streets. People, young and old, male and female, walked about, conversing. There was currently no sign of a skirmish. The fighters spread out, separating, trying to pinpoint the androids' location. Vegeta hovered over the busy pedestrians, frustrated that he had no knowledge of this event. He'd neglected to show up until later last time around, trying to use every last moment he could to prepare and show Goku his superiority. He did, however, have the advantage of knowing what to look for.

He scouted the area from the sky, vigilant, trying to pinpoint the androids before anyone else. When a little boy with a blue balloon raised his head and pointed at him in the sky, Vegeta figured he should land. He discretely went behind a tall building and lowered. A horn honked. Someone shouted, "Move it, buddy!"

Vegeta wasn't gung-ho to be around so many humans at once. A few at a time he could suffer through, but large crowds came with emotional women, rude comments, stares, crying infants, sluggish old people, and authority figures. Possibly all at once. A loud teenage girl passed in inappropriate clothing, speaking into her cellphone. He winced.

A familiar voice shouted in the distance, "I've found them!"

Great, it was the weakling, Yamcha. Vegeta sprang into action and traveled toward the direction of the yell. He came to a scene near a gas station, in which two men lay unconscious on the ground and a devastated white car was parked to the side. Android 20, white hair and mustache, with a tall black hat, had his hand over Yamcha's mouth and pulled him upward. Moaning came from Yamcha, and his eyes went wide. Vegeta hardly paid attention, not really taking in the man, so insignificant, and focused on the other android.

The baby-faced pale android with earrings and a weird pointed hat, turned. He seemed interested. "He's not the one we want either, but he is strong."

"Keep him preoccupied while I deal with this one, 19," said 20.

Vegeta laughed in amusement. He powered up and performed destructo disk at Android 19 before he even could react. The razor sharp disk of energy hit the android's neck, severing head from body. The head rolled, sparks coming from exposed wires and gismos.

"How pathetic," Vegeta proclaimed.

Just then, a semi sped their way. Anticipating the collision, Vegeta stood with his hand out and the vehicle slammed into it. He stopped it with force. The front end crumpled, driver terrified as the airbag puffed out.

When Vegeta turned he discovered Android 20 had his arm sticking right through Yamcha's chest. Abruptly, Android 20 released the man, and he landed with a thud. Vegeta stared at the bleeding, drained man who used to be his wife's boyfriend. There was no emotion. No attachment. He'd been so concerned with attacking he hadn't paid any attention to the other fighter's distress. Showed how irrelevant Yamcha was to him. He didn't feel guilty. The man would most likely survive, having done so before.

Android 20 stared him down. Vegeta decided to have a bit more fun with him and began berating with punches. Android 20 phased, avoiding most of them. Vegeta remembered that his power draining ability was located in his hands. He needed to rid the machine of this. Before then, it wouldn't be wise to shoot any blasts. But then again, he could make the android stronger to give more of a challenge. Contemplating this, Vegeta lifted and turned into Super Saiyan. He accumulated a blast at the android.

20 raised his hands and sucked in the massive blow. He laughed maliciously. "Thanks for the boost, fool."

"No, you are the fool. I did it on purpose so there was more competition," Vegeta said.

"Then you are even more of a fool than I thought," Android 20 replied.

He was about to continue the fight when Goku and company arrived. Shock came over Krillin. He shook at the sight of Yamcha's still form.

"Krillin, get him out of here. There may be still time. Take him to Bulma for a senzu bean," Goku demanded.

Krillin stepped over and took his friend in his arms. He flew off.

Goku took in the scenery and fray. "Vegeta, stop, we need to get out of the city. There are too many innocent people around."

A growl escaped Vegeta. Android 20 phased massively, escaping, and playing hide and seek. He emerged on a roof and shouted," You are right." Laser beams streamed out of his eyes. He shifted down and from side to side, demolishing buildings.

"No!" Goku cried.

"Let me do this my way, Kakarot!" Vegeta said.

"But we can't fight here."

"I'll lead him away. You get out of here. You aren't looking so well."

And he wasn't. Nobody would have noticed, but Vegeta was paying extra attention. He noticed the sweat on Goku's brow and the racing breath.

"What do you mean? I'm fine," Goku said.

Piccolo came forward, astute, and observant. "He's right. You don't look at full percent."

"Go home to your woman, Kakarot, and get that antidote before you keel over," Vegeta said. "I can handle this myself."

Goku placed a hand over his heart. "How did you know about the virus? Trunks told only me about it."

He had to come up with something. On the top of his head, he said, "I've been training under 600 times Earth's gravity. That does astonishing things to the mind. Sometimes I can see images of the future now." It sounded lame.

Goku bought it. "Wow, Vegeta. You are psychic now. That's as amazing as my instant transmission and telepathy."

"Hn, yeah. Now, get out of here!"

"But-"

Android 20 was nowhere in sight. He'd run away. Vegeta growled and sped away. "Coward, where are you?" he shouted.

The machine was most likely searching for more energy to steal. Which meant, he would target someone with a high power level. Vegeta glanced back and saw Piccolo and Tien, with no Android 20 in sight. He might follow Goku. Or Gohan. And Gohan was . . . with Bulma.

_Bluff_

Bulma stood. There was no way she was sitting for hours, and the act of defiance gave her a smidgen of pleasure. She had always been a little mischievous ever since a child.

"Yamcha, I don't get it. You said the androids can absorb powers," Krillin said. He held the brown bag of senzu beans, ready for anything.

Yamcha stood, legs wide, arms up, prepared to fight again if need-be. A giant hole in his uniform gaped in the middle of his chest. Bulma couldn't bear to look at the hole directly. When Krillin brought her unconscious friend she'd been sure he was dead. A familiar pang of sorrow and despair filtered through her, although not as severe as before. He wasn't her boyfriend, she wasn't in love with him, but she still cared. It was a relief to have these magic senzu beans.

"I don't know how he did it but when the android grabbed me I could feel all the energy drained from my body," Yamcha explained.

"Well, what are you waiting for, get moving and stop that android before he grabs someone else," Bulma said.

Anger was on Gohan's expression. He gazed out toward the city. "We have to warn my dad."

"I'm not so sure I want to go back down there, Gohan," Yamcha said. He paused and then looked over at Bulma. "Sorry to bust your bubble, but your _husband _didn't even help me when the android was draining my energy. He went straight on to the next android as if I wasn't even there. The guy sure is self-centered and uncaring."

A lump formed in Bulma's throat. She'd like to think better of Vegeta but she knew he still could be cold-hearted when it came to those he found trivial. It wasn't that he'd attack everybody anymore but wasn't about to put himself out for just anyone. Only those he considered family, or even what appeared to be Goku now, seemed to register as great enough to matter on a large scale. She found that she couldn't blame him. He was raised on a conquering planet and later enslaved by a barbaric tyrant. He'd never been taught to care. She was satisfied that he'd come this far.

People wouldn't understand. But she did. Vegeta's upbringing had psychological repercussions. If Goku had been raised the same way, and hadn't hit his head, he'd probably be as unfeeling as well.

The topic was interrupted by something in the sky. It moved closer and closer towards them. Gohan watched carefully with narrowed eyes. He pointed. "Hey, that's my dad."

Bulma drew closer and waved. "Goku!"

Goku flew over and touched down. He was a little out of breath. Gohan ran over to greet his father.

"Dad, are you okay?"

Goku nodded. "Boy, am I getting tired."

"Did the android drain you too?" Yamcha asked.

Goku smiled. "Nah, I'm embarrassed to say it's just this heart virus."

"_Just_ a heart virus? Goku, you shouldn't be out here," Bulma said, not realizing the statement was hypocritical.

Taking a deep breath, Goku said, "That's what Vegeta said. He told me to go home and take the antidote. I thought I'd stop by and tell you before leaving."

Krillin frowned. "Do you really think it is wise to leave _Vegeta_ in charge down there?"

Goku scratched his head. "Oh, don't worry. Vegeta is stronger than me now. I'm sure he has it covered."

Krillin's eyes bugged. "He's stronger than you?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a sparring session and he won with flying colors." Goku turned.

Yamcha stepped forward and grabbed hold of Goku on the shoulders. "Look, buddy, you are looking more and more awful. I think I better escort you back."

"Yeah, Dad, I think you better let Yamcha," Gohan said.

Deflating and relaxing, truly showing how exhausted he was, Goku leaned into his friend. "Thanks."

"No problem, buddy" Yamcha said.

The two men left, leaving only Bulma, Gohan, Krillin, and Yajirobe. Krillin's frown fell even more. His aura was full of gloom.

"I don't like this," Krillin said. "No offense, Bulma, but I'm not sure I want to leave things up to Vegeta."

Bulma nodded. She understood where he was coming from, given her husband's past. He didn't know him like she did.

"I trust Vegeta," Bulma said. "He's been working so hard. Even after he beat Goku. So, I don't think it was all about being the best. He came out here to beat the androids and protect us, and that is what he'll do."

Krillin's mouth lined. "That's a nice thought, but I think I'll feel better if I go check up on the others. I don't know how much of a help I'll be but . . . "

"I'll go too," Gohan offered.

Krillin hesitated. "No, Gohan, you stay and look after Bulma."

She knew she should just leave. Still, she hadn't gotten a good look at anything, and she really wanted to make sure Vegeta was doing all right.

The bald ex-monk soared off, along with the senzu beans.

"You're not going with them?" Bulma asked Yajirobe.

He crossed his arms. "Not on your life, babe."

"What I hear is that you are a pretty good fighter and they could use all the help they can get. I suggest you quit being a coward and get yourself into gear."

He glowered. "Can't do it."

"I'm tired of hearing your lame excuses. Get down there and help out your buddies _now_!"

Well, one person was worse than Vegeta. Yajirobe. Even if Vegeta would ignore Yamcha's need for assistance, at least he was using his time to rid the world of the villains. He wasn't trying to protect himself and hide like a baby.

His stance was like a wall. "I don't know how to fly, Bulma."

"Huh?" She blinked. The wind picked up. She was about to offer her hovercar parked a few feet away when another something sped their way. It neared and she made out that it was an older man. She spotted the double R label on its hat and shrieked. "Do something!" she yelled at Yajirobe.

To her horror, instead of helping, the dusty and unkempt man raced over to the hovercar and jumped in. The engine roared. He took off in an escape.

"Hey!"

Gohan stood with his arms out, trying to form a barricade between the android and Bulma. "Stay back."

She obeyed and backed up until she was pressed against the wall of the bluff. Gohan and the android began to fight, but it didn't last long. She covered her eyes when the android put his hands over the boy's mouth. She heard Gohan struggle. Something wasn't right. He must be stealing his energy, she realized, just like Yamcha had explained. She had to do something. But what could a pregnant woman do?

Bulma grabbed a rock and threw it at the android's head. It bounced off. She shuddered, water seeping from her eyes. She was so helpless. How stupid she'd been. I'm sorry Little Trunks, she silently thought. She held her stomach and prayed to any guardian that would listen.


	14. Chapter 13

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- The fighting may seem lame right now, but Vegeta is more powerful than he was in canon, now knowing how to manage more power. I promise that there will be challenges ahead.

Chapter 13-

Vegeta rushed back towards the bluff, determined to stop Android 20 before he made it to Bulma. Images of Bulma's airplane going up in smoke because of the android from the first timeline filled his mind, and he tried to drown it out in order to stay presently focused. The accident had happened so fast, and at a time when he'd been internally struggling with his feelings for Bulma and his newborn son. Everyone thought he'd purposely neglected them, but it really amounted to not being able to comprehend what was happening, and come to terms with his growing emotions, instead of pushing them aside in time. So, he'd stayed put, his mind not catching up with his body. Thankfully Trunks had sprung into action. But, there was no sign of Trunks yet at the current moment, and so he couldn't rely on him. No, it was up to Vegeta to save Bulma now. And his mind had caught up to his body, very much in-tune.

A streak in the air was all that was visible as he flew. He neared the bluff to find that Gohan had been drained, but he was still alive, his ki weak but stable. Bulma's form was backed into the cliff's wall, panicked. Android 20, AKA Dr. Gero, stood near her. She'd wanted to see an android up close, and she'd gotten her wish. Infuriating, stupid, woman! The android's hands reached out and touched the sides of Bulma's stomach, pads on his palms stealing the precious life of their son.

It was only for a few seconds. Vegeta growled and knocked Android 20 aside. Bulma fell to her knees. Her face had gone white and her breath came in gasps. There was no reason to play around anymore. The bastard had hurt his family!

Android 20 used an energy attack, but Vegeta deflected it easily. The android didn't stand a chance, Vegeta having far more energy and experience. Vegeta pointed with his middle and index finger and shot two energy rings at Android 20's wrists. The yellow rings pinned the android against the rocky wall. Vegeta spoke without words, his furious face declaring that no one messed with his family. He tightened the rings. More, and more. Snap. Android 20's hands detached.

"Curse you! Why are you so strong!" Android 20 exclaimed.

"I am the prince of all Saiyans, of course I'm strong!"

Vegeta shot blast after blast with rage. It wasn't until Bulma moaned and got his attention that he stopped. Android 20 was no more, only pieces of battered electronics. He breathed heavily, taking in his victory. Then he turned toward his wife. She was still on her knees, hunched over, holding her stomach.

"You senseless stubborn, woman," he told her.

She glanced up, tears streaming down her face. She looked terrible. "It hurts," she whispered.

He scooped her up and she whimpered. "What did he do to you?"

She shook her head. "Not me. The baby. He must have taken some of Trunk's energy."

A vein in Vegeta's temple popped. The baby's ki was very weak, and very unsteady. It unnerved him. He was about to flee the scene but Bulma gestured to Gohan. He grumbled and picked the kid up not too gently. It was awkward trying to fully support Bulma and grab Goku's spawn too.

Bulma pressed her face into his neck and blubbered. She spoke about not being able to feel Trunks anymore. He shushed her and said that he could feel his ki so she would stop her worry. He did not add that the ki was dropping.

Following the energy of the others, he dropped on the outskirts of the city. Piccolo, Krillin, and Tien were together, in a discussion with Future Trunks (who must have just entered the picture). Krillin jumped into action and took Gohan. He lifted a brown bag and took out a bean, prepared to administer it to the boy.

"Give me that," Vegeta said and snatched the tiny green senzu bean. He knelt, putting Bulma partially down, holding her in a sitting position with his right arm. He slipped the bean into her mouth.

Beside them, Future Trunks stood, anxious. He seemed tired and stressed, overworked, different than the son Vegeta knew. This Trunks had been through hell. The sight of his pained young mother, pregnant with himself, was a lot to take in.

"Is she all right?" Trunks asked.

Vegeta didn't know how to answer. He waited for the bean to take effect. Still, Bulma appeared unchanged. The color returned to her face but she continued to writhe and clutch her stomach.

Vegeta threw his free arm out at the others. "Why isn't it working!"

He saw that Gohan was wide-awake now, sitting up, fine. The senzu bean had obviously cured him. So, why not Bulma?

"I-I don't know," Krillin said. He looked at Gohan and then at Bulma.

"The bean is only affecting Bulma and not the baby," Piccolo stated.

"Of course. That makes sense," Future Trunks said, disheartened, coming to terms with what was occurring.

Realization came over Vegeta. They didn't know how these damned beans worked. Apparently they cured a mother but not her offspring. Goku always hyped up the senzu beans as if they were a cure-all but they had their limits.

The ki of his fetus son was low, too low. He felt helpless and weak, the worst emotions Vegeta, a warrior prince, could ever feel. Bulma continued to cry. He wished she'd come up with one of her genius ideas and know how to save their son. She'd been so quiet throughout the entire encounter. He'd made up his mind to take her to the hospital. Too bad Kakarot wasn't there to use instant transmission.

"Dad saved a bird once," Gohan said.

Vegeta stared at the boy as if he'd grown two heads. How was that relevant in this situation? The other men looked blankly. Vegeta prepared to take off with Bulma in the direction of the hospital before it was too late. He wouldn't allow himself to admit that he already feared it was.

"It looked dead but Dad gave it some ki and it flew away," Gohan continued.

Krillin snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's a great idea!"

"Energy transfer, yeah," Future Trunks said optimistically.

The concept hadn't occurred to Vegeta because he'd only been concerned with gaining energy all these years. He'd never shared or given energy, besides fusion. That was Goku's thing. He'd heard about ki transfer a long time ago on Planet Vegeta, in which medics saved other Saiyans through transferal. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked, but he didn't have time to plan it out. Desperate, he put both hands on Bulma's stomach and concentrated.

This was different than dispersing energy as attacks and so he had to be careful. He meditated regularly, but he never took himself as spiritual the way that Goku did. At this moment, he attempted to become mindful and calm. The energy had to ease out of him and filter into the vessel with life, not violence. I have no idea how to do this, he thought.

"You can do it, I know you can, Fa-" Future Trunks said.

"Shut up! I need to concentrate!"

He didn't need the reminder that others were watching. Seeing the weakness of trying so hard to save the baby. He removed his white gloves, wondering if they were getting in the way. He pressed his bare hands against the bulge of Bulma's stomach, covered by her blue dress. He hoped he wouldn't have to have naked skin on her end. There was no way he was letting the others get an eye full.

Vegeta closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart and mind. His hands warmed and a faint yellow aura arose. Okay, he had it gathered. Now, he just had to direct it. He pushed it slightly down, and it wrapped around Bulma's stomach like a blanket. She took in a deep breath.

After a few moments, he broke the link. Bulma sat, supporting herself with her hands, and blinked. She seemed to come to awareness, as if a thick fog had vanished. A smile came to her lips.

"He's kicking! He's going to be okay. Thank you, Vegeta!" Bulma cried.

"I hope you learned your lesson, woman!"

Vegeta got to his feet and crossed his arms. He'd just displayed a touching act of caring. Everyone was examining him, especially Future Trunks, who gave extra interest and astonishment.

"Oh, what are you all gawking at?" he spat.

Bulma laughed. Damned woman. What did she find so amusing? He just saved their son's life.

The expression on Future Trunk's face was as if he were fighting a battle and losing. He fidgeted, probably wanting to hug his mother. Vegeta had a hunch it went further than revealing where he came from. The boy didn't want to appear soft in front of his father. The future boy always tried to act tough, more so than the one Vegeta brought up. He respected that.

"It's time Bulma and Vegeta were told about your heritage," Piccolo said to Trunks. He turned to the married couple. "That is your future son. The one in which you carry now." He pointed to Future Trunks.

"What?" Bulma said.

Future Trunks came over and helped her to her feet. "It's true, Mother."

She hugged him. He looked away from Vegeta during the embrace.

When they pulled away, she held him at arm's length, examining him. "You sure are handsome. Isn't he handsome, Vegeta?"

Vegeta let out a 'humph'.

"Don't mind him. He's always grouchy," Bulma said.

"So I've heard," Trunks said.

He wasn't about to show it, and he kept a mask of indifference, but Vegeta was relieved yet again that he would have a son. The boy was becoming quite a bother to bring into the world. He found the upbeat conversation around him annoying, especially when Gohan cheered at hearing that the two androids were dead. He wasn't over the fact that Bulma had gotten into such a mess and put their son in danger. She was going to get another lecture.

AN- Tien says nothing because I don't know how to write him. Sorry, Tien fans. The energy transfer was shown in the DBZ movie: Cooler's Revenge.


	15. Chapter 14

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- Pretend Tien went back to Chaotzu. I just don't want to deal with him.

Chapter 14-

Everyone relaxed, the danger ceased, except Vegeta, who rarely 'relaxed'. He stood apart from the crowd, scowling, still angry at Bulma's irrationality. He hoped the conversation would lead to the secret laboratory and he wouldn't have to use his "I can foresee the future because of training under 600 gravity" excuse he used on Kakarot.

"I've seen that funny looking android with the moustache before," Bulma said. "He was in one of my dad's science magazines. Dr. Gero was his name. Looks like he changed a lot since then."

Future Trunks frowned. "Dr. Gero? Wait, are you saying he was an android?"

"Yeah, sure was."

"That doesn't sound like one of the androids that attacked my timeline," Trunks said.

Krillin's body performed a little shake. "Are you saying there are more?"

Trunks paused. "Possibly. The androids that I know are named 17 and 18. They look like teenagers, a boy and girl. The timeline must have shifted when I came here from the future. Oh, man, I was afraid this might happen."

Vegeta spoke before thinking. "What's the problem, boy? I busted those two androids to pieces. Now all we've got do is get these 17 and 18, which shouldn't be a problem."

"Is there any more information you can offer? We don't want to make the same mistake twice," Piccolo said.

"There was no mistake," Vegeta said. "_I_ took care of it."

The green Namekian did not see this reasoning. "It would be easier to know what to look for in order to prevent another devastated city and attack on your wife."

Vegeta growled, annoyed. Why couldn't he just let him take credit where due?

"The androids I know are sleek and graceful. Android 18 is designed to look like a beautiful young girl. Android 17 is a young boy who wears a red scarf and has long dark hair. But they both have the same cruel, lifeless eyes. Yes, it is the eyes that haunt me the most."

The memory of Android 18 came to Vegeta and his left eye twitched. He'd never been chummy with the woman but he could stand her company. It was refreshing to be around someone who wasn't goody-goody. He stole a glance at Krillin, her future husband. He had a look of distaste on his face. He hoped this wasn't heading in the wrong direction.

Krillin lifted an arm as if he were ready to battle. "Man, these things sound pretty mean."

"Well, that's one way of putting it. These androids are ruthless. They seek only to hurt and destroy," Trunks said.

"Do they absorb energy like the first two?" Piccolo questioned.

"No. These two don't need to." Trunks lowered his head. "There energy, it lasts forever."

There was a span of silence as everyone took this in. Vegeta wondered if he should direct the conversation somehow. They needed to get to Dr. Gero's lab and . . . What? Well, it needed to be destroyed. He glanced at Krillin again. The bald one wasn't a close friend, but he didn't have anything really against the man. His daughter was a friend of Bra's. Somehow, he'd have to save 18. For Bra's sake.

"Hey, where's Goku?" Trunks asked, curiously.

Bulma said, "He went home because of an illness."

"He went home for the antidote you gave him," Krillin said.

Trunks shook his head. "I can't believe history has slipped this much."

Really, Vegeta couldn't see the problem. From his perspective things were looking up. His son was so concerned about altering things, but wasn't that why he was there? Vegeta thought about his own changes with satisfaction. Nothing bad had happened from him coming from the future. The first two androids were destroyed and he'd sent Kakarot off to recuperate before the heart virus worsened. He'd recover faster.

The little gathering was becoming less focused. Bulma winced and commented on baby Trunks' kicking. Gohan had to feel. She let him press his hands against her stomach. Future Trunks stood back, uncomfortable, but still interested.

"Oh, what's new! The baby kicked. Babies do that. Can you take your mind off that and tell us where Dr. Gero's lab is," Vegeta spat. He wanted to keep things moving.

"_Sorry_, Vegeta, I'm sorry I'm so captivated by the miracle of our child. You know, it wasn't me who was so set on having him, you were. Don't you remember?" Bulma said smugly.

All eyes turned to Vegeta. Piccolo's lips actually twitched, coming out of his normal seriousness. Krillin did a double-take, blinking. Bulma smiled, happy that she'd embarrassed her husband. Trunks appeared more shocked than anyone. His lips parted, mouthing father with inquiry.

"No way!" Krillin said.

"Vegeta wanted to be a daddy?" Gohan asked.

"Sure did," Bulma said.

Vegeta's face burned. "If you speak another word, woman, I will blast you to the next world!"

She laughed. "You are so cute when you blush."

"Bulma, where is the lab?" Vegeta asked, trying to draw attention away from his humiliation.

It wouldn't have been surprising if Future Trunks passed out. He watched his parents, his head spinning. "I must have changed the timeline even more so than I thought."

Oh, so he was going to take the credit. Go ahead, boy, makes my life easier, Vegeta thought. He caught Bulma's eyes. She gave him a deep look, and he feared yet again she was thinking way too hard.

"The lab," Vegeta said forcefully.

Her head came up, coming out of her trance. She held her chin, considering. "Oh. When you mention it, I think I remember reading that Dr. Gero's lab was hidden in a cave somewhere just outside North City. But why do you need to go there?"

Vegeta held up a fist. "_Because_ it stands to reason that these other androids would be housed there."

Piccolo's firm voice said, "If that's the case, then we might just have the chance to find this lab and destroy the other two androids while they are still deactivated."

This was going down a path that Vegeta did not care for. He knew they had to stop the androids, but images of his beaming blue-haired girl putting on a fashion show with Marron wouldn't go away. He had to protect 18 . . . for Bra's sake.

Raising his fist and baring his teeth, Vegeta shouted, "I would never do anything so cowardly. I will fight these androids face to face." With that, he flew off. He heard Trunks yell in protest after him.

He flew at a good speed, distancing himself from the others. He'd go to the cave and awaken the androids. Then. . . He'd fight them and purposely lose. Then they'd get away. He clenched his hands. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, he reconsidered. There was no guarantee that events would transpire in such a decent matter as before.

Suddenly a lavender-headed boy barricaded his way. He held his arms out to the side. "Don't underestimate the power of these androids. We must do this Piccolo's way."

Vegeta growled and batted him aside. "I don't take orders."

"You won't be able to handle them on your own. We have to wait for Goku."

"Listen you, I don't have to wait for Kakarot anymore! I'm a super saiyan now. I can beat these two with my bare hands!"

"Father, don't."

Something in Trunk's voice made him hesitate. Maybe it was all the times he'd pleaded with him in the past, tried to win his approval, and be accepted. Vegeta turned his head away, recalling the moment when his son died at the hands of Cell. This son never knew a lov- an attentive father. The most he got out of him was an act of revenge for his maiming.

"I don't want to see you get killed like my own father. It hurt Mother and I see that it will hurt her now," Trunks added.

Vegeta glanced back at the gang, taking in Piccolo's attending antennae. He grabbed his son's shoulder and roughly pulled him. He directed him over behind a giant boulder. There was no way the Namekian could hear this far away.

The boy stared in confusion after Vegeta released him with a shove. Vegeta crossed his arms, reconsidering his decision. Did he really want to appear weak?

"The only way to defeat them is to-" Trunks said, going back into the android topic.

"Shush, boy! Listen up, I have something to say."

Trunks fell into silence. He narrowed his eyes.

"Things would be easier if I had you on my side, so I'm going to tell you something that you have to promise to never breathe a word to anyone else. Ever," Vegeta said.

The teenager remained silent, but nodded.

Vegeta sighed. "We cannot destroy these androids. Especially 18."

"But, they are killing machines!" Trunks objected.

"This is a different timeline. The androids in this timeline are more reasonable. The female one is capable of human emotions. Even marriage."

A gust of wind blew, Trunks' hair obscuring his view. He didn't bother pushing his lavender locks away. "That isn't possible."

"It is." Vegeta took in a breath of composure. "I've seen it."

The hair blew past his face and Trunks met his father's gaze. His eyes were enlarged, comprehension in them. "You're from the future as well."

AN- And so someone found out.


	16. Chapter 15

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- I tried out Trunks' POV.

Chapter 15-

The Vegeta that stood across from him wasn't the one his mother told him about. Trunks eyed the man with dark flamed hair, hard eyes, flat mouth, set jaw, closed off posture, and uptight body. He was powerful, arrogant, and proud, and yet, there was something under the surface. A gleam in those black orbs, as if he couldn't quite block-out the emotions. The attachments. This Vegeta cared.

'Don't expect too much from your father,' his mother had said. He didn't. But something told him this Vegeta just might give him more than a crumb.

It hurt. A pang in his chest that was uncalled for. He knew he wouldn't meet his _real_ father. Even if this Vegeta wasn't from the future- it wouldn't be the same. There was only one man who parented him. . . that man was dead. Still, he wanted some kind of connection, a bond, acceptance. Something. He was trying to fill a hole that would never be completely filled because the Vegeta he longed for perished before he even knew him.

Trunks mirrored this second father's posture, crossing his arms. "What happened to the Vegeta in this timeline?"

This irritated Vegeta. "I am the Vegeta from this timeline," he said.

That didn't make sense. There were two of him, the unborn baby and himself. Time travel didn't replace the original with the traveler. Either this Vegeta was lying or confused.

"It doesn't work like that. A branched universe is created. So, this timeline cannot be the one you lived in. There must be another Vegeta in this timeline," Trunks said.

The sun slowly disappeared in the sky, clouds taking over. It grew chillier. A green lizard scurried across the dry earth. Trunks wondered if they had time to spare out here. Logically, 17 and 18 would stay tucked away in safekeeping without someone to wake them up, but it made him nervous. He couldn't screw this up. If he saved this world he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he used his life for a purpose. That he hadn't lived only to get Gohan killed and fail to destroy the androids in his world.

A muscle in Vegeta's cheek throbbed. He clenched and unclenched his hands, as if he were trying to control an outburst. "Look,_ son_, there are other ways to time travel than machinery. I didn't come bodily but by the mind. Got it?"

This concept intrigued Trunks. It seemed impossible but conceivable. Like uploading data into a computer, updating software to a new version.

"Your memories traveled instead of your body?" Trunks said, more a statement than question. "Did Mom invent a way to do this?"

Vegeta hesitated, looked away for a few seconds. Why did this upset him?

"No, she did not. She . . . No. It was . . . Look, it doesn't matter. I need to deal with these androids before Cell shows up."

Trunks perked up. "Cell?" The name hit him in the pit of the stomach, as if he ate something sour.

"Another one of Dr. Gero's brilliant inventions. From another future," Vegeta declared. "Now, will you allow me to deal with 17 and 18 _my_ way?" It wasn't a request. Trunks knew that Vegeta would take action to get his way.

"What is your way, father?" There was that term. He couldn't help it. This man wasn't his father, but at the same time he was. Trunks realized he still was a child at heart, reaching out for his father's love and respect. It was bittersweet seeing this man, because if he managed to get these things they wouldn't last. Also, there was the possibility of rejection, and he'd have to go home empty handed.

Still, there were those eyes. Maybe this Vegeta could offer him something. The way he'd held his young mother and healed their son- himself. . . It offered hope. False hope, he reasoned, because there was nothing tangible that this Vegeta could give him. He couldn't offer him a childhood.

Trunks' eyes stung. No, no, no, he wouldn't cry. He couldn't let his father see weakness. Reveal that he was still a little boy who wanted a daddy to love and accept him.

"I will fight the androids and let them go," Vegeta said. "Use Kakarot's mercy."

The words appalled Trunks. He would just let them go? To terrorize people's homes? This future that Vegeta experienced involved docile creations, but they couldn't count on that.

Trunks was cautious with his words. "No disrespect, father, but that is a stu- horrible idea."

Vegeta smirked. "Always worked for the mighty Kakarot and no one complained."

"These androids are capable of demolishing entire cities. We can't let them go. We can't underestimate their power," Trunks tried to reason.

A groan escaped the full-blooded Saiyan. "Don't tell me how we should destroy them. I told you already that 18 joins the merry Z-gang and gets married. To Krillin."

Trunks shook his head. It couldn't be. Krillin? "The androids I know are ruthless killing machines. They aren't capable of human emotions."

"Bulma examined 18 and discovered that she has human parts. They are actually cyborgs who can feel all the warm touchy feeling stuff Earthlings go on about," Vegeta said. "Even have children."

"Ch-children?"

"Her name is Marron and your sister's best friend."

That stung. He didn't want to know about things that he'd never have like siblings. It amazed him how open his father was being. Did that mean he trusted him? This changed things. Android 18 and Krillin had a daughter. Which meant, that if he destroyed her, he would in a sense kill this Marron too by never allowing her a chance to be conceived.

Trunks deflated and gave in. His father was right. They couldn't destroy the androids, at least the one numbered 18.

"You spoke of mother examining 18. We could gather the androids and take them back to the lab for her to dissect," Trunks said.

Vegeta lowered his crossed arms a bit. "You're on my side then, boy?"

"Yes."

They flew together, and Trunks allowed his father to lead the way. Trunks' arms were positioned at his sides stiffly. He tried to calm his emotions with his rational brain. This was not a father/son bonding outing. This was business.

Vegeta flew with purpose, his white gloved hands in fists at his side. His speed was fast, his pointed hair flapping back. Trunks could go at this speed with no trouble as well, and he was pleased that he could show his fellow endurance. No, this wasn't all business. He just couldn't allow it to be.

Vegeta knew where he was heading, at least the area. Cliffs came into view and they maneuvered through them. After a while, Vegeta growled. "It's around here somewhere!"

They continued zigzagging through the rock faces until Vegeta slowed and turned his head from side to side. They were close to a cliffside with evergreen trees growing on its ledges, and two mountains in the distance. A round cubby-hole opening was placed high up, and Trunks assumed this was their destination. The pair landed on the shelf near the opening.

Two thick metal doors met them with a box with numbers. Trunks frowned. There was a password keypad? Did his father know it?

"Stand back," Vegeta ordered.

Trunks covered his ears when his father blasted at the metal. It crumpled inward. Vegeta shot at it again and again. Finally it gave, allowing entrance.

The place was dark on entry until Trunks grabbed a remote in a cradle on the wall. It triggered the overhead fluorescent lights. "What's this?"

Vegeta grunted. "Curious like your mother. That must be a deactivation remote."

Trunks stared at the device, rotating it. It was simple, just a rectangle box with a switch, a white square button, and a red circular power light. "Are you positive?" He was cautious, and annoyed that his father thought he knew everything. Even if Vegeta was from the future he didn't trust it. Things were different. He saw that, what with being a fetus at the moment.

"Yes! It looks exactly like the remote Bulma gave to Krillin to deactivate the androids," Vegeta snarled.

The laboratory hummed with electricity. Weird machinery was everywhere, along with wires and hoses. Computer panels and unknown buttons met Trunks' eyes whichever direction he turned. Three white pods stood on one wall, labeled 17, 18, 19. The latter's door was open and the pod empty.

Trunks crept over to the pods and peeked into the acrylic glass windows. He quickly turned away from the unconscious dark-haired boy, unnerved. He looked in at the girl and was surprised at how peaceful she appeared, as if she were a normal sleeping teenager. He stepped back. These were the androids he knew. His body stiffened.

Vegeta came forward about to tamper with the pods. Trunks stretched out a hand to touch him but pulled back. They were not on touching terms.

"Wait!"

Vegeta hissed. "What is it! Having second thoughts?"

Yes.

"Do you know how they work? Just touching a random button might do something drastic. We can't wake them up," Trunks said.

"Well, what would you have us do?"

Trunks liked the sound of 'us', like they were a team. But, he didn't feel like a team. His father was too stubborn and rigid in his thinking to listen to anything he had to offer.

He held up the deactivation remote. "We should use this."

"Fine."

Vegeta went to press a button, but Trunks protested again. "Wait."

"What now, boy!" Vegeta howled, turning to glare with menace.

"I uh- Do you know which one that will open?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?"

"Are you sure we should bring back both? What do you know about this 17?"

Vegeta paused. "He's her brother."

"And-?"

"Look, I don't give a damn about the one numbered 17. He pranced off on his merry way to do hell knows what on his own. Let's just get 18 and leave," Vegeta said.

This made Trunks feel better. They'd only have to keep track of the girl. He hesitated.

"This 17 didn't get married and have children then?"

"Oh for. . . No. He wasn't a prime citizen," Vegeta declared.

This made Trunks feel even better. So, he let Vegeta press a button that they deduced went with 18. The door pulled up mechanically. Her eyes began to flutter and Trunks had to stop himself from grabbing the sword on his back. Instead, he pressed down on the remote in his hands. Her head sagged. Mom'll be able to wake her back up, he thought. Vegeta snatched the blond android out, but then surprised his son by throwing her at him.

"There's something in the basement I need to take care of," Vegeta said.

No way was he letting his father go off by himself. He followed him down the ladder, lugging the light android. It unnerved him, carrying the female that helped kill his loved ones. So much, that a picture of Gohan with one arm popped into his head, and he almost dropped her.

The basement was more of the same, strange mechanical objects. In the center was a metal structure with a round glass top. Wires stretched from it to the ceiling. Trunks was interested in this, but found that his father was captivated by the tank to the side. Trunks scoured the area in search of plans. He found a diagram of what looked like 17's design. He rolled it up and shoved it in his jacket to examine later, hopefully offering weak points.

When Trunks looked over, Vegeta's legs wobbled and he placed both hands on the glass that showed green fluid inside. Trunks didn't understand what had his father so upset. There was nothing inside.

Trunks spotted a note taped to the side of the tank. He stepped over and lifted it.

_Dr. Gero,_

_You don't know what greatness is. But I will show you._

_Hedoro_

Vegeta snatched the letter, glanced at it, and then crumpled it into a tight ball. In a rage, he stormed over to the metal structure and began to pound into it. He hollered and cried out. Trunks watched the display in mute horror. This was bad, whatever this was. He wondered if this had to do with why Vegeta came from the future. He must have failed somehow to change things. Trunks' heart skipped. Maybe this meant he failed too.

He waited for his father to calm down. Vegeta stopped and breathed heavily in place.

"Father. . . What is going on?"

"Cell is gone," Vegeta said.

The longer he stayed in this timeline the more anxious he felt. Like he was an intruder and the universe was trying to kick him out, show him that he didn't belong. He had a feeling that someone wanted Vegeta out too.

AN- I went back and forth about whether 17 should survive, but I decided it'd be simpler to get rid of him. Vegeta doesn't have any attachment to him, so I figured he wouldn't protest in destroying him. And, Trunks, of course, would want to minimize risk.


	17. Chapter 16

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 16-

They exited Gero's lab, minds full and branching off in many directions. Vegeta's heart still hadn't completely calmed down. Part of him wanted to believe that if this Cell grew up into another perfect version he could beat it with his hands tied, but an ache of apprehension wouldn't disappear. The note implied that this Cell would become even greater than anticipated by Gero. Whoever Hedoro was, they needed to find him.

The presence of Krillin emerged. His ki was gentle and low, but stronger than an average human. Vegeta knew his imprint well and labeled it right away. Trunks and he looked over the ledge and spotted him below.

"Krillin," Trunks greeted.

The bald man floated up to meet them. He eyed eighteen in Trunks' arms with curiosity and admiration.

"Is she okay?" he asked, thinking she was a damsel in distress who had lost consciousness.

"This is Android 18," Vegeta said.

Krillin flinched and took a step back.

Trunks offered the girl over to the older and shorter man. "Why don't you take her back to Mom. Explain that we can open her up to see how she works."

Krillin shook his head. "Um, look, I dunno. . ."

"Father and I still need to destroy the lab." With that, Trunks loaded the android into Krillin's hands.

The ex-monk handled her uncomfortably, not used to holding women. He eyed her with fright, then shock, and then interest. She really was pretty, with her short yellow hair, delicate nose, slanted closed eyes, and thin rosy lips. She wasn't Vegeta's type, but he understood what Krillin saw in her. Vegeta knew that Krillin was having trouble convincing himself that she was one of the dangerous androids.

"Wh-What if she wakes up?" Krillin stammered.

"We deactivated her," Trunks said. He lifted the remote to show their comrade. "She won't until we turn her back on."

Krillin paused, still examining her. "I guess I could take her to the lab. Bulma isn't going to hurt her?"

Trunks glanced at Vegeta. Vegeta's mouth twitched. He felt like he'd done the right thing.

"There's no need to. We can examine her and find weaknesses. If she poses a threat we can tinker around with her to make her docile."

The hold on her changed to more of a possessive one. Krillin's expression wasn't happy, and Vegeta wondered if he didn't like the idea of them messing around with her innards. He left and father and son were yet again alone.

"There's no need to tamper with her washing machine parts. I told you she comes around," Vegeta said.

"But we're about to destroy her sibling. I don't think we can depend on her friendliness," Trunks said.

For a moment Vegeta reconsidered eliminating Android 17, but shrugged it off. Trunks didn't want to take chances on the androids and Vegeta had no reason to care about the boyish android. He'd heard that 17 turned into a vagabond deviant who stole from others and ran from the law. Eighteen would get over it eventually.

They first destroyed the basement level with an explosion. Then they stood near the entrance and fired blasts together in unison. The place shook, crumbled, and shattered. Satisfied, the two proceeded for Capsule Corp.

On the way, Vegeta got the impression that Trunks wanted to speak with him, but he never did. It was good that he kept quiet. Vegeta's mind had trouble distinguishing the boy from his own son. Out of compassion, he didn't want Trunks to become too attached.

West City was awash with the fading colors of sunset. The domed metal buildings of Capsule Corp welcomed them and Vegeta realized how strongly he felt this place was home. Not because of the structures, conveniences, or wealth, but because of the presence. Bulma's ki warmed him and beckoned as he landed in the front yard. This used to scare him. Years ago, he wanted to flee, to escape the ties, but now here he was, holding onto something that should have ended with all his might.

Bulma's mother greeted them with her usual perky grin. "And who is this handsome man?"

"He's a traveler," Bulma said, coming up behind her. She looked huge, about ready to pop any moment, but she was absolutely gorgeous in a frilly nightgown. Vegeta would have been proud to tell anyone she was his wife and mother of his child. She'd taken to changing her clothing early because it made her comfortable during late pregnancy. Obviously she didn't consider it a big deal to be in sleepwear in front of her future son. If her mother found it odd she didn't show it, although nothing seemed to shake that woman up.

"Oh, a tourist," Mrs. Brief gushed. "Where from?"

Trunks stiffened. "Here and there."

"How exciting!" Mrs. Brief put her hands together as if she were praying. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Do you have any root-beer?"

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Brief said. The woman left to fetch a bottle from the kitchen.

Bulma shook her head at Trunks. "You could lighten up. Are you always this tense?"

"No. Just when I have a lot to worry about."

Future Trunk took the root-beer with gratitude and sipped it with only a smidgen of approval on his face. Bulma gestured them to sit down in the living room. Trunks sat in a recliner but didn't lean back. Vegeta thought about his own Trunks and wondered if they really were one and the same. He couldn't imagine this Trunks playing video games with Goten or moving all the clocks back an hour on April Fool's Day. This young man had too much on his mind. One thing the two identical boys had in common was an appreciation for root-beer. The son Vegeta knew would have guzzled it in ten seconds, though.

When Mrs. Brief left, Vegeta gripped his own drink and turned to Bulma. "Have you ever heard of the name Hedoro?"

She thought for a moment. "No. It doesn't ring any bells. Why?"

Vegeta's chest tightened. He'd hoped she'd recall the name like Dr. Gero. If only he had something visual to stir her memory.

"We can ask my father. If he doesn't know, we can do a search. But, there might be a lot of Hedoros. Do you have anything else to go on?" she continued.

"He's a bastard who left Gero a letter about greatness and took his creation."

She lifted an eyebrow. "His creation?" By her voice, he knew she understood that couldn't be good.

Vegeta swallowed the last of his root-beer. He set the empty plastic bottle on the coffee table.

"Hopefully Goku will wake up soon," Trunks said.

"Kakarot isn't the only hero around here," Vegeta spat but then sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some back-up." He was simply too tired and stressed this evening.

A troubled expression played on Bulma's face. She shifted in her seat, a hand on the bulge of her stomach. "Do you think this Hedoro is going to cause trouble for the Z-fighters?"

"Probably."

"I've never heard of this Cell," Trunks said.

"And you wouldn't. . . yet," Vegeta said.

Bulma watched him as he stood up, took his bottle, and went into the kitchen to dispose of it. He couldn't get rid of the unsettledness in his body. Cell turning up missing by a new villain was something new. Something he couldn't use his knowledge bank on. Beating the Imperfect Cell from the future would be a cinch. This other one could turn into a real problem.

He came back into the living room and pointed to the root-beer bottle that Trunks had set on the floor. "Trunks, how many times have I told you to pick up your mess!"

The lavender-haired teen's eyes widened. Vegeta didn't know what had come over him. The words spilled out before he even knew what was happening. It hit him that this scene had happened before, only much later, and instead of Bulma on the couch, Bra sat in her place. He'd shouted the exact same thing.

"How many times have you asked Trunks to pick up his mess?" Bulma asked curiously.

"Never," the males answered in unison.

The wheels in her head worked and Vegeta knew it was only a matter of time before she figured it out. Maybe he should go ahead and tell her, but he didn't know how. _Look, woman, I'm from the future. I came here to . . . Well, no reason. I came here to be here. _It'd turn to questions. Such as, why, what for. If he answered truthfully it'd lead to words that started with L and had to do with mushy topics such as family. He'd prolong this fate as long as possible.

Bulma spoke with her father in the lab. He had a considerate look on his face. He responded that he never heard of a Hedoro before. Dr. Brief explained that Capsule Corp had the technology to search databases and that if this Hedoro had a connection with Dr. Gero they would be able to discover it. It would take time, though.

"How long?" Vegeta asked, arms crossed.

Dr. Brief puffed on the short cigarette stick. "Possibly a day. Maybe more. It all depends."

"Fine. Just get it done."

Shaking her head at his rudeness, Bulma kissed her father on the cheek and mumbled a thank-you.

The examining table consisted of Android 18, laid out as if sleeping peacefully. Her father had forced Bulma out of the lab because she seemed too tired. He'd taken over and x-rayed her to map her parts. He pointed to the diagram on his computer screen.

"I don't want to alarm you, dear, but she has a bomb," Dr. Brief explained.

"A bomb?" Bulma bit her lip. "Let me change and I'll be right back down."

Vegeta grabbed her arm. "No you don't! Woman, you are not pulling an all-nighter."

"Yes, of course not," Dr. Brief said. "Why don't you sleep? You look about to drop any moment. I can handle it here. Just a few wire cutting."

"It's not even ten yet!" she protested.

"Doesn't matter. You are exhausted!" Vegeta said firmly.

Her shoulders relaxed. "Oh, fine."

She waddled up the stairs and to their bedroom. She curled up underneath the covers. He stripped at the foot of the bed. She smiled, eyes parted.

"Don't give me that look, you are too tired," he scolded.

She pouted.

Vegeta got in next to her and her hot body pressed against his. Her giant stomach dug into his back, her arm on his side. She cuddled her face up to the back of his head on the pillow. Her breath hit his ear and he wished she wasn't so tired.

"You sounded like a father when you said that to Trunks," Bulma whispered.

Vegeta grunted. "Go to sleep, woman." He wasn't tired, but he knew she'd have difficulty sleeping without him there.

"Like you've had practice," she said.

He growled. "Go to sleep, I said."

"Vegeta. . ."

"Sleep!"

AN- I don't really like this chapter, but I hope it wasn't that bad. And sorry for the delay, I've been busy with school.


	18. Chapter 17

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- I think I've gotten my inspiration back. Thank you for all the reviews!

Chapter 17-

Bulma woke up before Vegeta and stared at his smooth back. He breathed loudly and deeply beside her. His body twitched a little as if dreaming. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and hoped he wasn't having a nightmare about Frieza.

The first thing she thought of was how a dangerous android was down in the laboratory. She rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the queen-size bed. As she stood, she realized how bad she had to urinate. From reading books, Bulma knew that the baby lightening, or dropping lower into the pelvis, put pressure on the bladder. She rushed to the adjoined bathroom to alleviate herself.

Less two weeks to go, Bulma thought. Soon, she'd have her Little Trunks in the big wide world. It made her both excited and nervous at the same time. Of course, she'd be a good mother, and she miraculously had trust in Vegeta, but Earth wasn't a safe place, especially with the lifestyle they led. She'd found that out with Android 20, or Dr. Gero's replica.

Speaking of trust in Vegeta . . . She flushed the toilet and stepped back into the dimly lit bedroom, curtains drawn to only let in a smidgeon of morning sunlight. He still slept, now on his back with an arm over his face. She remembered last night, and she'd be damned if she was going to let it rest. Something was going on. There were too many pieces that were creating a hypothesis.

First, he'd awoken from the GR explosion to think he'd died or was dreaming. He'd acted different ever since. He was sweet, as sweet as Vegeta could be. He wanted to have a child with her and even asked her to marry him. And, he knew things. Like, that Trunks would have lavender hair and that his nursery would be down the hall from their room. The comment to Future Trunks sounded so familiar, even in her ears, as if an echo from the future. As if he'd been a father before.

Maybe she wouldn't have questioned anything if it weren't for Future Trunks being, well, from the future, but he was, and it gave her ideas. Could it really be true? Could this Vegeta be from the future as well? More importantly, what did that mean? Did it change anything at all?

If it were true, it only meant one thing: this wasn't the original Vegeta she'd invited to live in Capsule Corp. She'd fallen in love with a more mature and receptive man. She could depend on this man. She wouldn't have been able to put her faith on the other one. At least, not for a long time.

So, it didn't mean anything except that she loved this Vegeta and she was happy with him. But she wasn't going to let him get out of telling her where he came from. If he was from the future she wanted to know the details. She was his wife. She deserved to know. Plus, she was Bulma Brief, scientist, and as curious as hell about everything.

Who knew how long he'd sleep. It wasn't like he had a schedule to keep. Sometimes he woke up before her at the crack of dawn to train, but lately he'd become more sporadic. Who knows how long he'd stayed awake last night. It seemed like he had a lot on his mind. What with this Cell situation. She sighed. Maybe he'd traveled through time to deal with that. She hugged her arms and worried that meant he had to go back when it was taken care of. She couldn't deal with that. If that was the case, she'd never forgive him. She was having his child.

She threw on a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt. Fashion went out the window when she began to take shape. If she went out, she wore nice maternity wear but she cared more about comfort while at home.

Bulma left the bedroom silently. She needed to busy herself. That way she wouldn't become overwhelmed with all the Vegeta unknowns. She began her descent down the stairs when a twinge made her wince and grip the railing. She paused for about sixty seconds, and then it eased. Braxton Hicks, her doctor told her. Normal. She breathed and straightened before continuing.

"Trunks, Mommy can't wait for you to be born," she muttered. She lifted her head and spotted her son, all grown up, with a black Capsule Corp logo mug of steaming coffee in his hand. "How good looking you will be in about eighteen years too."

Future Trunks leaned against the wall similar to his father's signature stance. He nodded at her and held up a palm. "Hey, Mom."

Bulma smiled but she feared it wasn't full of cheerfulness. Her chest was too heavy. "Trunks, can you tell me about time travel?"

His hands wrapped around the coffee mug. "My world isn't a nice place. I don't know if you want to hear about it."

She shook her head. "No, time travel in general. How does it work?"

"Don't you know? I mean, Mom, _my_ Mom, built the time machine. She knows more than I do."

"I know the theories," Bulma said. "But they are only theories. I guess I would align with the quantum mechanics notion that there are multiple dimensions and that whenever point A is chosen a point B is created somewhere else."

Trunks nodded. "Yes. The time machine creates a new timeline that branches from the original. It is not possible to change the past from the traveler's perspective." A dark look of sadness and regret crossed his features.

This news grieved Bulma as well. She could only imagine what it would be like to travel and change things for others but never see it reflected in your own world.

"You came here to help us without any hope for yourself," Bulma whispered with tears in her eyes.

He gave her a one-arm hug. "Don't cry, young mother, it's worth it. Getting to see you and Father, and . . ." He looked down. "Myself, have a better life. It is worth it."

The tears came down even more. Stupid hormones. She wiped them away. "Oh, Trunks. . ." She loved this boy. She loved him as her own. He was so courageous and strong.

When she composed herself, it came back to her why she was asking all this in the first place. "So, someone would have to have a time machine to travel? And they would have to come from another dimension?"

Trunks swallowed hard on his coffee. He seemed uncomfortable and his eyes roamed to the staircase. "This is out of my jurisdiction. You always were the smarter one."

"So, you don't know?"

"I. . . I traveled in a time machine. It might be possible to travel another way."

"Like the dragon balls!" Bulma declared, as if she'd come up with her answer, but of course, she hadn't. She could only speculate.

By his change in manner, she guessed he knew something. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "Has Vegeta talked with you about time travel?"

He went rigid.

"He has, hasn't he?" she asked.

Trunks said, "He might have but it isn't for me to say. I've never had a father before and I won't betray the little respect he has for me."

It was all she needed. Her suspicions were confirmed.

"Well, kid, I gotta say you probably made the right choice. Vegeta would probably punch you in the nose if he knew you told me secrets." She smiled, real this time.

"I really don't know much anyway," he said.

It was tempting to rush upstairs and wake Vegeta up with a confrontation, but instead she headed for the lab. She didn't know how she wanted to handle her husband, and a small part of her feared the answers she'd receive. Maybe he came to prevent a catastrophe like Trunks and the androids. Maybe he'd leave if he succeeded.

Bulma pulled up her father's notes on Android 18 and went to work. She examined the diagram of the bomb and its extraction. In the bottom corner of the computer screen was a downloading bar, indicating a background program on the search for Hedoro.

She got up from her seat and stood over Eighteen. The girl lay still and cold, made of inert parts. Bulma began to wonder. There had to be a way to control Eighteen. If Bulma could find a way to do so then Trunks could use the same method in his home timeline. She went back to the computer and began to type away. She was so lost in her brainstorming that she didn't hear the door open or process the footsteps.

She jumped when Vegeta came up beside her. "The boy said you wanted to see me."

Bulma collapsed the window. She swiveled in the chair. His hair was wet from the shower and he wore black pants and a blue shirt. She licked her lips, unsure where to begin.

"Vegeta, you hate that eared hat for Trunks because it will look awful with lavender hair, right?"

He scowled. "Is that all this is, woman? Yes, I think that hat is hideous. I've made that known."

She looked up into his eyes. "You did, months ago. Before Trunks came from the future. Before you knew he'd have lavender hair."

The muscles in his arms tensed. "Lucky guess."

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Was it?"

He crossed his arms. "What are you getting at?"

She stood up, awkwardly, leaning against the work-desk. Another one of those stupid Braxton Hicks pains shot through her and she leaned even more heavily against the plastic furniture.

"Are you okay, woman?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"What are we even talking about? That stupid cat-eared hat? I told you to do what you want with it. You always do anyway."

Bulma breathed deeply. She didn't feel right. She sat back down, a little dizzy. "Do I really? Or is that something only _you_ remember?"

"Look, what are you yammering about? If you have something to say, could you please just spit it out nice and clear, or has the hormones prevented your brain from forming coherent sentences?"

She was mad and sad and scared. She was all messed up inside.

"Are you from the future?" she asked slowly and comprehensibly.

Vegeta frowned. A long silence passed.

"I'm not stupid," Bulma finally said.

"Of course not, and sometimes that is your biggest flaw," he said.

She dug her nails into the seat of the chair. "You aren't going to answer coherently back?"

Vegeta began to pace back and forth between the examining table and the desk. "I'm thinking how to answer you," he said.

She waited impatiently, even watching the Hedoro search bar in the corner of the computer screen. It was a third done, and the blue line didn't seem to move. 54 results it indicated. There were 54 matches to the name Hedoro. Wonderful. And it wasn't done yet.

"Let me make it easier," Bulma said. "Did you travel by time machine?"

Vegeta stopped. "No. You don't make one of those."

"Are you from another timeline?"

"Timeline yes. Dimension, I don't think so."

She nodded, a little relieved. "Dragonballs?"  
His shoulder dropped. "Yeah, it was those damned balls again."

"To stop this Cell?"

He took a long time to answer. "Yes."

She nodded. Of course he would come for something important like that. The tears escaped her eyes despite trying to keep them at bay. He huffed at them.

"Damn you for getting me pregnant!"

"What!" He stormed over and bent down into her face. "I am not some imposter who came and knocked you up! I am your husband and you are _my_ wife! As far as I can tell, the same one I married in the future."

She blinked back the tears, lips wobbling. "And you will leave. Go back to her and leave me here all alone. With him? He'll come back and he won't love me anymore."

He pulled back, appalled. "Good Kami, woman! Is that what you think?"

"It makes sense. Trunks is leaving. It stands to reason you will leave too when this Cell is defeated."

"You've got it all wrong. I've got nowhere else to go. This is my home, always has been, with you. And as for my past self, well, he always did lo- Oh fuck it! I always loved you, woman! I just didn't have the balls to admit or say it."

Bulma stood up and launched herself at him, burying her face into his neck. She still cried, wetting his skin. He awkwardly held her, a little stiffly, but still trying.

"Thank you for being truthful," she said. "Thank you for telling me."

His hand formed a fist at her back and then loosened. "Look . . . I only came here. . . Cell is only _part_ of the reason I came here."

She shifted to give him a questioning look.

"I'm not leaving, I told you that before, and I mean it. I have a life here. You are here. And so are our children."

The water works wouldn't stop. He wasn't saying what she thought, was he, in his round-about Vegeta fashion? He hadn't come back for her, had he? And children. . . Multiple. She held him tighter. A family. She liked the sound of that.


	19. Chapter 18

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 18-

The realization changed nothing outwardly. Later that day, Vegeta went off to train and acted like it never happened. That was fine with Bulma, because it did happen, and she held it in her heart. The Android 18 project figures and coding she worked with were not a somber topic, given the upliftment from her encounter with Vegeta. He may never say it again. He may never admit saying it. But forever she'd remember the admission, the tone of his raspy voice, the look in his fiery eyes. _I've always loved you. _

At lunch, she didn't even know she was smiling. Goofily apparently. Stupidly, probably like a school girl with a crush.

"What are you smiling about?" Vegeta demanded.

She lifted her head from her cupped hand, propped by her elbow. She realized that she'd been twirling her fork absentmindedly in the spaghetti and sauce. Her family gave her curious looks. By Vegeta's voice, she knew he was telling her to 'get over it already'.

Bulma shook her head. Still smiling slightly, she said, "Nothing. . . much."

Mrs. Brief patted her hand. Her father lowered the newspaper he read, smiled himself, and then went back to reading. Future Trunks ran his eyes over his parents, trying to figure them out, but gave up and tentatively grabbed another piece of garlic toast.

Back in the lab, she worked and worked. She got lost in programs, diagrams, and equations. Finally, she rolled the chair back a little and stared at the computer screen with satisfaction. Yes, it would work! She showed her design to her father before he left for his main office and he confirmed that it was completely plausible.

A device similar to Dr. Gero's would be created that would manage Android 18. Instead of deactivating, it would control her power level. A dial to change the signals sent through her circuits. If she were a "good girl", she'd be fully functional, if "bad", she'd have some troubles. Maybe it was treating her like a slave, but Bulma didn't feel guilty. They could give her freedom later if she earned it. She sent the plans to headquarters for manufacturing.

Mrs. Brief came down to check on her, offering her a cup of hot herbal tea. She told her that she shouldn't overwork herself and possibly take a nap. Bulma accepted the tea but felt great. She had a burst of energy today for some reason.

The Hedoro search was 98% done. Bulma sipped her tea and waited. It still wasn't completely done when she ran out of beverage, so she examined the map of Android 18 again. She noted how humanoid she was. Dr. Gero made the girl more cyborg than android. She even had a fully functional ovarian system. Bulma couldn't help but hope that they could tap into the android's left-over humanity. Vegeta had faith in her for some reason. Given the fact that he was from the future, he most likely knew things about Android 18 the rest of them didn't.

The program dinged in completion. She opened the Hedoro results. There was information for businesses to individuals. She first searched within the material for the most obvious refinement: Dr. Gero. One result. It was a science article about bioengineering. The article described the proposed idea of combining pieces of organisms and creating supreme species. The article was not authored by Dr. Gero or Hedoro, but referenced them as the ones who originated the hypothesis. The article concluded that the idea had been rejected by peers in the field because of moral issues. It was implied that Hedoro was a colleague or partner to Dr. Gero. Digging further, Bulma found out that this Dr. Hedoro graduated from the same college as Dr. Gero. Years previously, he went missing from the public eye about the same time that Dr. Gero got involved with the Red Ribbon Army.

Bulma printed what she found. Suddenly, the fax machine came to life and spit out something. She took the papers and saw that it was from her father at headquarters. The information came from the Capsule Corporation satellite system. A photograph had been taken that depicted a time machine covered in moss, and a hole in the top. The fax read that a man in the mountains found the ship and it had a Capsule Corp logo on it.

A pain caught her off-guard and she almost dropped the papers. The pain fluttered from her back and to the sides of her stomach. It wasn't that bad, but it was worse than earlier. She glanced at her watch. The doctor told her to time the contractions to know if she was going into labor, but she'd lost track when the previous one had happened. It had to have been over an hour ago. Unconcerned, she went upstairs to gather Trunks and Vegeta.

She ran into her mother on the way. Mrs. Brief held the cordless phone out to Bulma. "Honey, Chi-Chi is on the line for you."

So much was happening all at once. Bulma sighed and took the black phone.

"Chi-Chi?"

"Bulma," Chi-Chi said, elated. "Goku is awake!"

Bulma sat down in the recliner. "Oh, I'm so glad!"

"He should be up and about in a few days. That is if he rests like I tell him too." Chi-Chi paused. Bulma heard rustling. "Goku, what are you doing? I told you not to get up."

"But, Chi-Chi, I'm so bored! Is that Bulma on the phone?"

"Yes."

"Let me talk, please, Chi-Chi," Goku whined.

"No, go back to bed this instant!"

"Aw, Chi-Chi, give me the phone. I just wanna talk. What is the harm in that?"

A few seconds passed. "Oh, fine," Chi-Chi relented.

Goku's voice came from the receiver. "Hey, Bulma."

Grinning, Bulma said,"Goku, it is good to hear you. How are you feeling?"

His cheerful voice always had a way of making most people happy. "I feel great. Chi-Chi doesn't believe I'm all better, but I am perfect." She imagined him stretching and flexing his arms, trying out his recovered muscles.

"I believe it," Bulma said. "You Saiyans heal like lightning." She glanced down at the important papers. She really didn't have time to waste on the phone. "Look, Goku, I wish I could come see you but I have important things to do. We just got a fax about a time machine similar to Trunks', and there is development on Hedoro and this Cell."

"Cell?" Goku said.

Bulma knew immediately she'd made a mistake. Chi-Chi was going to come kill her with a frying pan.

The next thing she comprehended was Goku, standing there before her, two fingers at his forehead. He wore normal clothing instead of his usual gi. He grinned with full teeth as if proud of his actions. Loud incomprehensive shouting thundered from the phone. Bulma had to remove it from her ear and she apologetically said to Chi-Chi that she had to hang up.

Bulma glared at her friend. "You know, Chi-Chi is not going to forgive you easily for this."

He laughed and scratched his head. "Yeah. . . " He shrugged.

Just then Trunks and Vegeta walked in from the front hall. They both had new bruises. Bulma's eyes widened, a little surprised. They'd been training together? Vegeta seemed like the solo-type when it came to fighting.

"Oh, hey, Trunks, hey, Vegeta!" Goku greeted.

Vegeta frowned and crossed his arms. "What are you doing here, Kakarot? Shouldn't you be on the mend?"

"I'm fine," Goku said. He stretched and flexed just like Bulma had imagined before.

Bulma struggled to get out of the chair. Vegeta smirked evilly, amused. Goku gave her a hand and helped her to her feet.

"It sucks being a whale," she muttered.

Bulma proceeded in explaining the important things, leaving Android 18 for later. The girl wasn't going anywhere. She told them about Hedoro, and how he was a colleague of Dr. Gero. His whereabouts were unknown. Then, she explained about the time machine. Trunks leaned in and scrutinized the photo. His brow wrinkled.

"That's my time machine." Trunks paused. "It can't be, though. I have it right here." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a capsule.

"There are two time machines?" Goku asked, confused.

"It must be from another time dimension," Vegeta said.

Goku seemed awed. "Oh, that makes sense. You are so smart, Vegeta."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. His demeanor shifted to seriousness. "Cell uses that time machine from the future to come here."

"I forgot that you gained the ability to see the future," Goku said.

"He what?" Bulma put her hands on her hips. She looked over at Vegeta.

"What, woman?"

How childish these two men were. To lie like that to Goku, and him being so gullible.

"Vegeta came from the future like Trunks," Bulma said. She paused and added. "To help us with this Cell creature."

Her husband gave her a look of surprise and possibly gratitude. It wasn't that she was doing him a favor; she was only withholding private information.

A disappointed expression spread over Goku's face. "That's a bummer. I thought if I worked hard enough I could see the future too."

"Focus here," Trunks said, keeping the conversation on track. "Father, we should go check this time machine out."

The interaction between Future Trunks and Vegeta had slightly changed. Bulma noticed that Trunks seemed to look up to his father. Vegeta wasn't warm, but he had let the boy train with him. Their camaraderie was apparent in that Trunks had turned to Vegeta for aid instead of Goku.

"I wish I could use instant transmission to get us there but I've never been to this place," Goku said, glancing once again at the photo.

"We'll have to use a plane then," Bulma declared. She headed to their cabinet of capsules. The others followed. She slowed when a contraction hit again. The cramp cascaded through her lower back and slightly radiated into her uterus. She masked the pain and recovered quickly, and continued on. Her companions did not even notice. I'm a lot stronger than they realize, she thought. Still, she breathed a little heavily.

Bulma rummaged through the capsules until she found what they needed. If they were all going to go, they needed the larger jet. She knew this wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. She was probably about to give birth (she'd come to that conclusion after the last contraction), but she wasn't in active labor yet. She had plenty of time. Most women were in labor for hours and hours. She possibly had days. This trip would be a cinch. If anything happened, Goku could just transmit her to the hospital in a flash.

She took the capsule and held it tightly in her hand. There was no way she was going to stay home while the others went off to investigate. It was too soon to go to the doctor, they'd just send her home again until she was ready. Bulma's number one flaw was being her father's daughter, a Brief, who was much too stubborn, much too smart, and too curious.

AN- Bulma is smart, but really stupid when it comes to putting herself in dangerous situations. I was going to let things go smoothly, but I think I'm gonna have some more fun with this.


	20. Chapter 19

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 19-

The plane had a navigation system that allowed Bulma to punch in location coordinates. They arrived in a pretty remote area with mountains, trees, and foliage. A shiver ran through her as she comprehended how far away from civilization they were. Trunks scanned the landscape, comparing it to the photo. Suddenly he perked up and pointed out the window.

"There!" he proclaimed. He glanced down at the photo.

"Finally," Vegeta mumbled. He leaned into the cockpit.

Bulma punched in a few commands on the plane's control panel. She grabbed the steering yoke and guided the plane down for a landing. It was a bumpy but not a horrible landing. She killed the engine.

"Did anyone bring food?" Goku asked, getting to his feet and patting his stomach.

"Sorry, Goku, but no," Bulma said.

Vegeta growled. "Look, Kakarot, your calorie intake is not our top priority here."

Goku pouted. "I know that, Vegeta. My stomach just growled is all. Don't you like food too?"

The other Saiyan glared. "Of course, you moron, I just have my priorities straight!"

Another contraction shot through Bulma's lower back and around her stomach. She stiffened in her seat. Trunks didn't seem to notice, lifting the photo and angling it for a better view. The men in the back were too distracted, bickering like immature children. She let out a long slow breath, or tried. That hadn't been over an hour.

"Okay, let's get this done, children," Bulma declared.

The others exited the plane. Bulma hesitated, unsure about hopping down. Vegeta growled and easily picked her up and set her onto the grassy ground. She gave him a smile of gratitude but he tried to act annoyed, not fooling anyone, especially her.

They walked a ways from the plane. The place was quiet except for a few bird calls and monkeys eeking and ooking. It was peaceful and tropically warm. Bulma felt extremely hot despite the short-sleeve blouse and flowing skirt she wore. She had a bottle of water left in the plane and was tempted to go back and fetch it, but decided against it.

The time machine waited on a small hill near a small cluster of trees. Trunks frowned and looked up from the photo.

"That is strange. Where is the moss?" Goku asked.

"This isn't the same location as the photo," Trunks said. "There aren't trees in the photo."

The time machine was in pristine condition, the hole in the top glass had vanished. The gold legs and jets appeared as if they had been freshly waxed, shiny in the sunlight. The number 1 and Capsule Corp. lettering looked repainted. Trunks lowered and brushed his fingers over the side.

"Mom carved the word HOPE right here, but it is gone," Trunks said.

Goku had crouched down with a baby monkey on his shoulder. The brown animal played by weaving his tail in and out of his wild black hair. "Maybe it isn't the same time machine then." He laughed from the tickling monkey tail, distracted.

"Someone may have buffed it out," Bulma said in consideration.

Future Trunks decapsulated his own time machine in a puff of smoke. Bulma examined both, pinching her chin between thumb and forefinger. She spotted the scratched HOPE inscription on Trunks' machine.

"It's the same time machine," Vegeta said in his raspy certain voice. Something had darkened his mood. Probably the fact that someone had probably taken and tampered with the time machine.

Bulma stepped forward but stopped when Goku yelled for her to stop. She froze.

"There's an anthill right there. Don't step on it!"

Bulma's eyes went wide, incredulous. Her husband growled and this time she didn't blame him. Goku cared more about nature than he did the serious matter at hand.

"Kakarot, why don't you go wait in the plane!" Vegeta snapped.

Goku stood up, letting the monkey scamper off into the jungle. "What, why?"

"Because you are no help whatsoever!" Vegeta roared. The hands at his side clenched.

Something caught Bulma's attention. A mass of gooey and crunchy stuff lay off to the side. She inched toward it, bypassing the anthill, and Trunks followed at her side. The intensity of Vegeta's voice rose behind them.

"Is Goku like this all the time?" Trunks asked. "Mother always made him seem . . . more heroic."

She chuckled. "Well, Goku is . . . Goku." She shrugged. "He has a big heart and saves the world on a regular basis, but I think he suffers from ADHD. He's better than when he was a kid, though. When someone dies, people tend to only remember the good qualities."

He nodded and whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear. "But when it comes to Father, she told me he was arrogant, boastful, and indifferent." He glanced over at the flame-haired present man. "I see some good qualities in Vegeta."

Bulma smiled. "Well, he's still arrogant and boastful. And I warn against telling him he has good qualities unless you want to see his worst."

"I just feel . . . sort of sad that my mother never saw this Vegeta."

Bulma's heart squeezed. Sympathy arose, along with thankfulness. "But you did. And you can tell her."

Trunks may have been about to cry from the glisten in his eyes, but he did not. He nodded.

The gunk that they walked to had a retched stench and Bulma covered her mouth and nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. Thankfully she no longer had morning sickness or she'd have emptied her lunch. She opened her eyes to view a weird mixture of brown and green, hardness and liquid. It looked like some sort of giant squished bug.

Trunks wandered around and came back with two pieces of eggshell. He put the pieces together like a puzzle. The exterior was bumpy and pink with yellow in the diameter. Bulma came over to inspect it. She glanced down at the mutilated giant bug and wondered if it had emerged from the eggshell.

Vegeta and Goku walked over. Goku locked his hands together, on his best behavior. Vegeta had an expression of shock as he took in the eggshell and then the massacred bug cocoon.

"That is Cell," Vegeta said.

"What? That is Cell?" Goku asked.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "One of them."

"One?" Bulma said. He had left that part out.

"There are two Cells. One came from the future in the time machine and buried itself in the ground to evolve into what we called his Imperfect stage. I assume that would be this mess. Someone killed him in his pupal state. Another one was created here in Dr. Gero's lab. The one that Hedoro stole." Vegeta glowered.

"You don't think Hedoro killed this Cell and took the time machine, do you?" Goku said.

Bulma laid a hand on her bulge with a feeling of dismay. She didn't want to know what purpose this Dr. Hedoro would have with a Cell embryo and time machine.

"What for?" Trunks asked.

Goku's head shot up. He met gazes with Vegeta. "Do you feel that?"

"I don't feel anything," Trunks said.

"That's because you weren't trained properly!" Vegeta retorted. "There is someone else nearby. He doesn't have a high ki."

"High enough," Goku said.

Vegeta smirked. "Maybe by your standards."

"For a human," Goku clarified.

They walked back over to the time machines. Trunks encapsulated his. Another contraction hit and Bulma leaned heavily against the other time machine. She pressed her palm against the side of her stomach. This one was stronger, heavier, and deeper. It encompassed more of her stomach than before. Her legs shook.

Vegeta flinched to act but Trunks made it there first. He offered support and she leaned against him. Her eyes wet with the beginning of tears. The contractions were getting painful.

One look at Vegeta had Bulma feeling guiltier than ever before. On the surface he looked mad but she detected betrayal. Maybe even guilt on his part, for not noticing until now, being too focused on other things not to sense the change in her ki.

"Bulma, how long has this been going on?" Vegeta asked too softly.

She couldn't meet his dark eyes. "Awhile," she croaked.

"You'd think you would learn. Dammit, woman, do you even want our son to be born at all!"

This had her eyes spill over. "Yes."

Trunks encapsulated the other time machine. He didn't look at his parents, probably uncomfortable. Bulma felt ashamed. Here was her future son, and he might think she didn't care about his younger counterpart. But, she did. She'd do anything for her baby. She honestly hadn't thought she was putting him in danger.

"Really, because your actions show otherwise." Vegeta turned his back on her. "We are leaving."

"That might be hard," a voice from the side said.

All attention shifted to a tall man with a mustache and graying brown hair. He wore a white button-down shirt with the Red Ribbon Army logo embroidered over a breast-pocket. He wore small wire glasses and had sunken cheeks. Bulma stepped back, along with Trunks. Anybody who wore anything with a double R was bad news. She could guess who this was.

"Hedoro?" Bulma questioned.

He bowed. "Yes, I am Dr. Hedoro. And, you are Mrs. Bulma Brief. Along with your son and husband." He stared at Goku. "And the mighty Goku."

Goku's manner shifted to all seriousness. His body prepared to fight if need be. "How do you know us?"

"I've met you a few times actually. In different timelines."

Vegeta stepped in front of Bulma and Trunks. It might have been stretching it to believe that he was shielding them from harm.

"For what purpose?" Vegeta demanded.

"To gather supplies. Your cells were perfect ingredients for my Super Improved Cell. Yes, I included you, you, and you." He pointed at Goku, Vegeta, and Trunks one by one. "And also your friends Piccolo and Tien. Two super Yakumi aliens named Ketchup and Mustard. Oh, and a young hybrid Saiyan named Vegeta Jr. That would be your great-grandson, wouldn't it, Vegeta?"

This infuriated Vegeta. He launched forward, ready to tear the man's head off. Hedoro pressed a button on a white band around his wrist. A violet force field formed around him for protection. Vegeta slammed his fists against the shield.

"I've been considering how to handle the matter of you killing my precious Dr. Gero. You see, I was going to show my replacement for his inferior model - my Super Improved Cell, and gain his approval. But, since that is not possible anymore, I think my Cell will have a new purpose." Hedoro held up a small remote. He pressed a red button. "He'll be here soon to take care of you all." Then, Hedoro pressed something on his white bracelet band and he disappeared.

Bulma shuddered, both afraid and amazed. He had technology Capsule Corporation could not manufacture yet. Maybe he had snatched them from the future. If she could get her hands on that bracelet . . . But if not . . .

"Dammit," Vegeta said.

Goku gazed off into the trees. "I can sense a really high presence coming this way." With that, he was off, heading towards the fight.

Trunks stepped away from Bulma. "Even I can sense that."

Vegeta turned toward Bulma. He pointed at her and spoke sternly. "Go to the plane and fly yourself to a hospital! If you don't I will chain you up so nothing like this ever happens again!"

She nodded. She wanted to ask him if he'd come join her when this was all over. She wanted him by her side. She didn't want to be alone. He should be there to see their son born.

"What about you?" Bulma asked.

"I'm not going to let Kakarot steal the fight," Vegeta said.

"If you can, please come to the hospital," she said.

He turned. "I can't make promises but I'll be there if I can."

Good enough. She came over and gave him a quick hug. He didn't move and she knew he was still angry and hurt.

"Get going woman," he demanded. "And make sure the boy is born safe."

Her men hurried off. She waddled at a slow pace back to the plane. Her hips and legs ached. She climbed into the pilot seat with a little difficulty. I did this to myself, she thought. Can't complain. She settled in and hissed. She breathed heavily, doubling over from pain.

"Kami!' she yelled to no one, gripping the yoke. They were actively getting closer, and definitely more agonizing.

This is not good, she thought. Bulma, you dummy. She went to start the plane. Nothing. What? It literally did nothing, not even a sputter. She pounded her fist down on the controls.

She remembered Hedoro's words in response to Vegeta saying they would leave: That might be hard.

This is not good, she echoed. Okay, all she had to do was wait for one of them to come back. She'd just wait this out. They would come back, right? Of course. In time, that was another question.

AN- In case you were curious Hedoro is named after sludge/vomit, and Ketchup and Mustard are yakumi aliens, which means condiment/spice. Gotta love DBZ humor.


	21. Chapter 20

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN (or the really long Cell explanation)- silvia S.K asked a question about the new Cell. She wants to know how there is a new Cell if Vegeta did not go into another dimension like Trunks. Here is my explanation: No, Vegeta did not go into another dimension; he transmitted his thoughts and memory into his past body. However, he is making different choices. Have people seen The Butterfly Effect? Every action affects something that affects something else. Trunks came and made Goku catch the heart disease early, and also three other androids appeared. You could say that this is simply because of another timeline dimension, but I see it as his mere presence caused these things to happen.

As for The Super Improved Cell made by Hedoro, here is a full out clarification on how it happened. Dr. Hedoro existed in the original timeline as well (in this story). He was a colleague of Dr. Gero's and had strong feelings toward him that Dr. Gero did not return. Time is a little different in the story, given that Vegeta does things differently, spends a different amount of time doing certain things. Dr. Gero did not get a chance to go back to his lab to awaken 17 and 18. This allowed Hedoro to go to the lab and steal the Cell embryo and plant his note (taking Cell to improve him in attempt to win Gero's approval). In the original dimension, he did not because Gero was there. Hedoro got word of the time machine (he has a lot of technology he created to keep surveillance over discoveries), cleaned it up, and got the brilliant idea to travel around and gather cells for his new version of Cell. He went to the lab to brag to Dr. Gero by leaving another note and discovered it destroyed. He traveled through time, but only taking a few minutes in the DBZ timeline. In time, he discovered that the Z fighters always killed Dr. Gero. He now wants vengeance on them for repeatedly killing his precious Dr. Gero so many times. Apparently he's been to the future and took cells from Vegeta Jr. and even to other planets such as Yakumi (these facts will be important later). He came back to the DBZ verse with some advanced technology from the future, let his Cell loose to evolve (this one doesn't have to take a long time to hibernate), and killed the other Cell because it wasn't good enough. Now, he called The Super Improved Cell to destroy Vegeta, Goku, and Trunks, vanishing to his own laboratory who knows where.

A lot of information that Vegeta doesn't know, or maybe even care about. All he knows is that he changed the timeline like Trunks did before. Does that all make sense? Let me know if it doesn't?

Chapter 20-

The fight had started by the time Vegeta made it there. They were in a clearing with generally flat land. It was a good spot where nothing or anyone could get in their way. What caught Vegeta's attention was how this Super Improved Cell looked. Perfect Cell had a green body with black spots, orange feet, and white face and hands. He appeared buggy with wings in the back and two points at the top of the head, similar to feelers. This Cell had the same face, the features of smugness, except that his green skin was red, and the white had been replaced with yellow. The bug appearance had vanished. Instead of feelers, he had two curved white horns coming out from the sides of his head. Vegeta was familiar with the Akumi alien race and knew that they had red or yellow skin and horns. So, Hedoro must have altered Cell's appearance by adding in their cells.

Watching Goku, it was hard to believe that once this man was more powerful than him. All he had to do was wait his turn. There was no way Goku could win this battle. This Super Improved Cell was obviously more powerful than Perfect Cell.

Goku and Cell threw quick jabs and punches at each other. Neither was out of breath, but Vegeta knew that Cell hadn't unleashed even a portion of his true strength. Cell attempted to fly over to Goku for a punch, but Goku flung quickly backwards. Goku zigzagged around in the air, punching and kicking at every angle, but Cell blocked everything.

Without turning, Vegeta sensed Trunks arrive. The boy came up next to him, captivated by the battle.

"Mom was right, Goku is amazing," Trunks said.

Vegeta scoffed. "Are your eyes malfunctioned? Cell is playing with him like a cat with a mouse."

Trunks kept his mouth shut but his father noticed the startled expression on his face.

Goku used the afterimage technique, moving so fast that he left a blurry image of his body behind. When he slowed down, he punched and kicked Cell in the back of the head. Cell was thrown back in the air, but he recovered quickly. He flew back and grabbed Goku's foot. He wound his arm as if tossing a baseball and let go of Goku.

"I have yet to show you, warrior, what I'm truly capable of," Cell said.

Goku gained control. He touched down on the ground and took in a breath. "Whoo. Okay, I might have to pick this up a notch."

The two opponents circled each other in the air. Cell tried to kick Goku in the face, but Goku dodged. Goku went in to return the kick but Cell seemingly disappeared.

"What? Where did he go?" Trunks asked, head swinging from side to side.

Vegeta frowned. The boy had missed out on valuable training without a father. Kakarot's brat hadn't been a descent replacement for full-blooded Saiyan guidance.

"Look up, boy," Vegeta said, pointing.

The battle continued for a long while. The fighters zipped and zoomed all over the place, enjoying themselves. The combat intensified with the inclusion of energy blasts. Light beams of yellow, blue, and purple exploded from their hands at each other. Goku hit Cell further into the air. He powered up a kamehameha. The whitish-blue burst from his palms outward. Vegeta cringed at the pathetic energy. Come on, Kakarot, you can do better than that, he thought. Of course, Cell deflected it with little trouble.

Cell smirked. "Kame-hame-ha!" Cell unleashed his own form of the attack, yellow and more powerful.

Goku did not have time to prepare or comprehend the reflected attack. It hit him in the chest and he fell. The dark clothing of his shirt burned, scarring the muscular chest flesh beneath.

"Are you done yet, Kakarot? Is it my turn?" Vegeta demanded, standing tall.

The other Saiyan groaned and lifted his head. He squinted back at Vegeta. "Not yet," he said.

"Goku, don't do it. Let Father take over. It isn't worth risking your life," Trunks said, ever the calm one with reason.

Cell crossed his arms over his chest. "Fool, you should listen to your friend."

Goku struggled to his feet. He held his chest with his right hand and did not stand straight. Vegeta wished that his rival would back down, and not only so he could take his place, although that was the main reason. There was no way Goku could defeat this Cell at the level he was now. Vegeta feared he'd humiliate himself and jump in to save his friend before Goku was even out of commission. It completely pissed him off that he cared so much. It really wasn't his responsibility to look out after everyone. Still, he couldn't help think about a ditzy little boy, Trunks' best friend, not yet born, deprived of a father. For Trunks, he thought. I might intervene just so Trunks can have a happy friend. What had the Prince of all Saiyans turn into? A sorry sentimental savior.

Cell performed Piccolo's Special Beam Cannon on Goku, but Goku avoided it. Goku got in a few good poundings. Cell retaliated by gaining speed. He became so fast that not even Goku could see him. Super Improved Cell stopped behind Goku and slammed him in the back. Goku dropped toward the ground and barely regained flight before smashing into the earth.

"He's not going to last much longer," Trunks said. He took a step forward.

Vegeta held his son back. "It shows honor to allow a fellow teammate to have his own match."

"But-" Trunks objected.

A few things happened all at once. Vegeta felt the tug of something, like an exterior part of himself. It called to him, telling him to retreat from the fight and go back in the other direction. The sensation was familiar, and he'd experienced it right before Bulma died from the illness. The Saiyans spoke of something called The Saiyan Bond, in which kis became so attached that they could unconsciously communicate from even long distances.

He attuned his senses and found her ki. Stronger than usual, as if boosted. He growled. Damn woman, why hadn't she left?

Goku resorted to using continuous kamehamehas. Cell blocked them, but was unable to freely move. A purple haze arose around Cell's body. It grew and expanded from his body. The energy from the kamehameha bounced back at Goku. The good-hearted warrior knocked back. This time, he landed hard on the ground.

"No!" Trunks yelled. His eyes went wide. "He's unconscious."

Cell chuckled and glanced over. "Who's next?"

Vegeta took a step. "That would be me."

"Father, can you do this?"

Vegeta smirked. "Of course I can. Who do you think I am? I am the Prince of All Saiyans, time traveler from the future. I'll never allow myself to fail again." He looked over. "Trunks, go back and check on your mother. I think something detained her."

The lavender-haired teenager's lips parted, surprised. "Mom hasn't gone?"

"It's up to you to look after her. If she's dawdling for something moronic like waiting for me, overpower her, knock her out if you have to, but get her to that dammed hospital! I'll be there as soon as I pound this bastard to a pulp."

Trunks nodded. He gave Vegeta a look that contained _don't die_ and _good luck_.

_The Plane _

Bulma had lost track of time. It felt like hours. She tried to get comfortable in the back of the plane. She sat in the seat for a while but changed her position and knelt between the seats, leaning forward onto the cushion. She held the edge of the seat and tried to breathe.

"Mmm, haaa," she moaned.

There was no spot that helped. She stood up and ventured into the back where they stored luggage. She shuffled around a bit, awaiting the next blow. Vegeta, her mind cried between love and resentment for putting her through this. She swayed on her feet. She remembered then that the birthing book she'd read had said that standing was a good position, but that it'd speed up the process. No, oh no!

Bulma got back down. There was nothing for her to do but wait. She became bored in-between pains and began to talk to baby Trunks. She smoothed circles over her enlarged abdomen as she sat.

"I'm so sorry, Trunksie," she said, closing her eyes. "Mommy is really smart but she can make dumb decisions. What Daddy said isn't true. I want to give birth to you safely. I'll be better, I promise. I'll take better care of you from now on."

Surely she had hours left. The thought didn't comfort her. She recalled the tournament, in which Goku could fight for an entire day. Who knew how long she'd be in this plane.

I don't want to give birth in a plane, she thought. The ancients used to have babies out in nature all the time, and she knew that she could if need be. Female nature took over in dire situations. But if anything went wrong. . . Vegeta would never forgive her. She'd never forgive herself.

The contractions grew closer, maybe 6 minutes apart. She squat and grunted. Ugh. Her pelvis was on fire and her entire stomach squeezed. The pain kept getting worse no matter what she did. She tried to think of something happy. Normally she'd think of Vegeta but that only made her feel ashamed. So, her mind went to Future Trunks.

Bulma hugged her tummy as if holding Baby Trunks. "You're going to grow up big and strong, and carry an impressive sword. And make Daddy strong by becoming Super Saiyan. He might not say it, but he loves you very much. I'll teach you how to know. Outwardly he seems hard but he has a gooey center if you know how to look."

"Uhhn." She rotated her hips and rocked. This helped ease the contraction a little. Strange, she might even be getting used to them. Maybe she was delirious.

Just then a gush of water spilled from between her legs. She stared at the liquid that escaped and then placed her forehead against the cold window of the plane. Her water broke. There was no stopping this. The reality of the situation hit home and Bulma got scared. The next contraction shook her body and she violently cried out, full tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm going to have my baby in a god-damn plane!"

Pain mixed with pain and she found that it felt like mini contractions interspersed with major contractions. Things were progressing much too fast. The stronger aches dragged further out and she couldn't talk to Trunks anymore during those. She wondered if Saiyan labor was more intense or if every woman went through this. She just couldn't imagine the everyday woman went through this. Hah, like I'm that special. But then, maybe I am, she thought.

Breathe, just breathe, she told herself. She visualized Vegeta and her with a small boy with lavender hair and a mischievous smirk. She could do this.

"Gaah."

No, maybe I can't. Kami, I don't want to be alone.

As if in answer, the plane's side door popped open and Future Trunks climbed in. He crawled over to her, taken aback. She must have looked a mess. Her hair was probably tangled and her face was sweaty. She most likely smelled of bodily fluids. He hesitated before drawing near.

She hugged him around the neck and sobbed.

"Mom?"

She cried and cried. He held her when another contraction came and this helped, despite still bawling.

"Why haven't you left?" he asked in concern.

"I-I tried. Hedoro, he did something. I can't start it."

"I'll look at it, but I'm not an expert in planes," Trunks said.

"Neither am I." Mechanical maintenance was her dad's deal. She couldn't think straight but she tried to tell him what to look for in the engine. He nodded and left to check.

She shivered. The tears slowed to sniffles. It was better now. Even if she had to stay here to deliver she was no longer alone. So strange to think that big Trunks might help her give birth to little Trunks.

He fiddled outside with the plane for too long. She gritted her teeth and wished she had pain medication. Even if they got her to the hospital it was probably too late.

Trunks came back and she grabbed hold of his arm. "Did you find anything?"

"There are some cut wires. He may have even taken out some parts," he explained.

She nodded in acceptance. She'd known this. She hadn't expected him to be able to fix it.

"You're going to have to fly me out of here," she said.

Trunks opened his mouth. He paused. "Uh, I don't know if that is a good idea."

She dug her nails into his arm. "I can take it. Fly me to the hospital. Now!"

"But-"

Bulma writhed and cried out. She flailed her legs around, forgetting about rocking with the pain, disregarding special breathing techniques. Everything went out the window. Blurred and tired, she begged again for him to fly her off.

Taking too long to answer, Trunks said, "I can't. It'll jostle you too much, and what if you have a contraction and I drop you? Father would kill me."

She leaned her head back. "We can take it. Trunks, come on, I can't give birth to _you _here. Do you want to be born in a plane?"

His eyes were soft. "Better that than something going wrong in midair."

She bit her lip and nodded.

When she thought they couldn't get worse, they intensified. This had to be a Saiyan thing, Trunks being stronger and harder to deliver. This pain couldn't be normal. She actually yelled during the active contractions, which she never thought she would. She always took herself for tougher than this.

Trunks stayed by her side and tried to comfort her. He thought, which was good because she was beyond thinking. Finally, he slowly pulled away.

"I'm going back. Maybe I can wake Goku up to use instant transmission," he declared.

She pulled on him. "N-No don't. Don't l-leave." She sucked in a breath and prepared for the next one. Her body couldn't do this alone.

"I'll come right back," he promised.

She shook her head.

He detached, leaving her cold. "I'll try and bring Father back."

With that, he was gone. Bulma cried again. She rocked and continued to do so, contraction or not. She wanted to go back to whispering to her Baby Trunks but her insides felt like they were ripping apart. Gwauh, this had to be a Saiyan thing. Or, something was wrong . . . Maybe something was terribly wrong.

Something instinctual came over her and her maternal body told her to push. No, no, I don't want to, she thought. This can't be happening.


	22. Chapter 21

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- So, I have an idea for a spin-off story. It won't be a sequel, but a spin-off about Future Trunks after his arrival home. What do you think? I wouldn't start it until Trunks goes back in this story, so that the time matches up with this. I'm wondering if I should just imbed it into this story, or post it separately. Hmmm. . .

Chapter 21-

Maybe it was arrogance, maybe it was confidence, and maybe it was simply optimism- but Vegeta was sure he would win. How could he not? He was the master of the universe now, truly the most powerful man in the galaxy. Nothing could stand in his way now that he'd had the opportunity to come back with boosted abilities. Not even this upgraded version of Cell.

Vegeta punched the creature in the gut. He played with Cell, smirk on his face. This was amusing, fun actually. He'd forgotten just how good it felt to have a powerful opponent, who was a challenge but not unbeatable. Perfect for a Saiyan.

He swung Super Improved Cell to the side. Super my ass, he thought. Improved, yes, but no one was super but him. He continued his effortless beatdown on Cell. Pride filled his chest at the thought that Goku had found such difficulty in the creature. I am superior.

The only thing that bothered him was that Cell seemed unfazed. Even when he upped his power level Cell did not panic.

"Admit that I am stronger," Vegeta taunted.

Cell hovered in mid-air across from him. They both matched each other, arms crossed. Vegeta reminded himself that this monster had some of his cells.

"I'll admit that you are stronger than that one," Cell said, his eyes drifting down to where Goku lay sprawled on the grass.

Growling, impatient, Vegeta said, "But you do not believe I am _strongest_. Why don't I prove it to you?"

With that, Vegeta fired many blasts at Super Improved Cell. The energy consumed the area, causing a massive explosion. When the air cleared, Vegeta saw nothing but landscape. He spun. Suddenly, Cell snuck up behind him and caught his legs. Cell hung Vegeta upside-down like a doll.

His disgusting face neared and Vegeta even got a glimpse of spotted tongue. Ew, must be a Yakumi trait to be so foul, he thought. He elbowed Cell in the stomach and got loose.

Still, Cell would not admit his defeat. He would not declare Vegeta the superior. Fine, he would just have to end this and announce it himself.

Vegeta attacked rapidly. This was done. He'd end this and join Bulma. The glee was diminishing. That was when things changed. Cell began to block every move.

"You weren't even trying before were you?" Vegeta snarled. Super Improved Cell had hidden his true potential. First with Goku, and now even with him.

Laughter spilled out of Super Improved Cell. One thing Vegeta hated more than anything was mockery. Vegeta blasted in rage. No one laughed at the Prince of All Saiyans!

Fast, Super Improved Cell dodged this way and that, missing the blasts. Vegeta attempted to catch him, but could not. This was a game to Cell. A fucking game. The same game he'd played with Goku. Cat and Mouse. I am no mouse! No matter what he did he couldn't get any more blows in.

Cell phased out of sight. The next thing Vegeta knew, Cell had a hold of both his arms. The prince got free and managed to get in a few punches before Cell jumped away. Angry and humiliated, Vegeta demanded, "Take me seriously!"

"You'd be dead already," Cell said.

Vegeta kicked high at Cell's neck. Unhurt, Cell straightened his head. He stared into Vegeta's eyes. Infuriated, Vegeta averted his gaze and prepared to use a final flash. He drew back his hands and gathered his energy. Then, he thrust his palms forward, unleashing a massive golden beam. The power shook the earth itself. It rumbled and crackled. The energy seemed to stretch endlessly outward, maybe into outer space.

The energy blew off Super Improved Cell's right arm. Vegeta smirked but then got a sense of d'eja' vu and it vanished. This had happened before and he knew what would happen next. The red arm regenerated, using Piccolo's talent. Vegeta went in to attack but Super Improved Cell threw him in the air and elbowed him in the back. Vegeta plummeted.

Sputtering, Vegeta convulsed, but then sat up. His vision was blurry. He felt drained. He could have got back in, not that bad off, but Trunks emerged through the background of trees. His blue eyes were wild, his hair blowing back as he ran.

"Dad!" Trunks yelled. Not father. Dad. It jump-started Vegeta's heart, so familiar.

Pushing himself up, staggering a little, Vegeta righted himself. He prepared for battle, not turning away toward his son. "Why aren't you with your mother?"

Cell looked amused and curious at the exchange. He flew overhead, gazing down at them like ants.

"That's just it. Look, Da-Father, she's in labor and the plane won't start. Hedoro did something to it." Trunks came up, breathless.

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Dammit. Figured. That woman always knew how to get into deep trouble. It was taking everything he had just to get non-future Trunks back into the world. What would happen when she was pregnant with Bra? Would he have to use just as much effort? Grrr. . . Things were much simpler when he just destroyed planets.

"What am_ I_ supposed to do about it?" Vegeta asked. "She's all right, right? No complications?"

"No complications, but-"

"Then go back and tell her to toughen up and deliver the brat. If it's in a plane so be it."

That seemed to shut Trunks up. Still, he scowled, and then went over to Goku. He shook the man and tried to wake him up. It didn't seem to work.

Cell laughed, that shrill sound similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. "Shall I come back? When things are settled with the woman?"

Vegeta balled his hands into fists. There he was mocking him again. Trying to put him in his place, show his weakness. And it was true, Bulma and his family was his weakness. He didn't need it rubbed in. Not on the battle field.

"Meet me in 10 days," Cell continued. "On this spot. Bring whoever you want, as many as you want. It'll be a game, a tournament."

No way! He'd beat him now. Vegeta charged. Super Improved Cell zipped away, evanescent, and gone. Body shaking, Vegeta landed. He hollered, fell to his knees and pounded the ground, and then powered down.

Trunks came over, Goku slung over his shoulder. He stood by his father's side, waiting. Vegeta stood up. He ran a hand through his flamed hair and made a decision not to let this get to him. 10 days. He could do a lot in 10 days. He had the time chamber after all.

He turned, his eyes hard. "Let's go see you being born."

Trunks nodded, nervous.

They arrived to hear screams. Vegeta stomped into the plane, ears covered. He took in Bulma, huddled in the back, drenched in sweat. She smelled like he did after a good long training session. Her clothing was rumpled and out of sorts. She reached out to him. He was hesitant to go to her. He hadn't actually been present when Trunks was born the first time. Bra was horrifying and she'd said it'd been ten times easier. The desperation on her face won him over. He crouched down at her side and she launched onto him. Her clutch was strong for a human's.

Tears fell down her cheeks. "It hurts," she whined. "I think something is wrong."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what you said with the last one but you made it out okay."

Her fingers tightened even more on his arm. "Last one? There are more!"

He chuckled. "Look, woman, nothing is the matter. It's called childbirth. Harden up and do the deed already."

"You bastard!"

Vegeta softened a little. "You can do it, Bulma. Remember who you are bringing into the world. You want to see him, right? The Trunks outside is going to go home. Don't you want your own Trunks here to stay?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "I still don't want to have him in a plane."

"Well, sometimes things happen and you have to adapt," Vegeta said.

Bulma squirmed. The features in her face scrunched up. She let out a breath and then said, "Okay, okay, I'll push."

"Don't tell me you've been trying to hold the brat inside."

Guilty as charged. He frowned. That couldn't be good. If the body said to push, you push. He was about to give her a lecture when a whoop of joy came from outside the plane. He left Bulma to check on Trunks, only to find him holding up a senzu bean in triumph.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Vegeta demanded, leaning against the back of the plane.

Trunks grinned. "In his pocket!"

The clown probably forgot he even had it, Vegeta thought. He watched Trunks push the bean through Goku's lips. He chomped down and swallowed. The wounds healed and Vegeta felt Goku's ki rise. Slowly, he lifted his head.

"Ugh," Goku moaned.

A piercing cry came from the plane. "Vegeta, get your ass back in this plane, now, or . . . or. . . . Ah!"

Trunks helped Goku get to his feet. Goku rubbed the back of his head and then exercised his neck and shoulders.

"I need to train more, I guess," Goku said.

"First, you need to get Mom to the hospital," Trunks declared.

Another scream rang out. "Better, unless you want to go deaf," Vegeta said.

The three men entered the plane. Goku took one sight of Bulma and almost fainted, but Vegeta smacked him on the back of the head. Goku laughed in embarrassment.

"Okay, stop pushing, we've got you an escort," Vegeta said.

Bulma raised her head and glared daggers. "Stop? You told me to. . . I don't think I can . . . Uhh."

Goku knelt. "Come on, Bulma, we'll be there in a jiffy."

He picked her up, to Vegeta's dismay. It was supposed to be him to do that. Trunks and Vegeta came over and touched the other Saiyan. Vegeta made a foul expression, unsure where to touch, and settled for his elbow.

Gasps exploded in the hall of Orange Star Hospital. A nurse dropped her clipboard. Another one backed up into the wall.

"My wife is about to deliver! Get her a room _now_!" Vegeta barked.

They rushed Bulma into a clean room with a comfortable bed. Now, he wouldn't have to listen to complaints about giving birth to Trunks in the back of a plane. The nurses tried to guide Goku into an examination room, seeing the state of his clothing, and smears of blood.

"Oh, I'm fine," he stated. "Really. Thanks, though." Still, they tried, and he ended up waving goodbye and using instant transmission to escape. Probably from the fear of needles. Wimp.

They made Vegeta clean up before joining his wife. They said it was important for babies to remain sterile. He made it back just in time, grumbling. Bulma's face was red and she panted heavily. Her legs were wide as she pushed.

She shot Vegeta a glare, many words in that look. He came forward and let her hold his hand. She squeezed the life out of his knuckles. There were no words. He stayed by her side as she did the work, and occasionally glanced over. When she got the head out, he peeked to check and nodded in confirmation. She needed him then the most, as if gathering strength from him, and she bore down, heaving and grunting.

It wasn't pretty. It was less pretty than Bra's birth. He came slithering out, red, covered in fluid, tail and all. They'd discussed the tail issue, and as much as Vegeta prided in it, they'd agreed upon its removal. The hospital staff knew the arrangement. He examined Trunks after they washed him. He hollered with powerful lungs until he quieted as the nurse passed him to Bulma.

He hadn't gotten the chance to really see Trunks as an infant. He hadn't actually been there most of the time. He watched Bulma cuddle him, count his toes, touch his patch of lavender hair. The baby had spirit, blue eyes open, tail twitching. The kid met his father's approval.

Bulma seemed amazed and alight with happiness, her previous turmoil over and done with. She stroked the side of Trunks' cheek. "He's perfect." She kissed his forehead.

Vegeta shrugged. He felt the older Trunks outside the door, most likely hearing the entire conversation. "He's all right."

She met his eyes knowingly. Liar, they said.

"Do you want to hold him?"

He shrugged again. "Why not?"

She passed the baby over, smiling, giving him those eyes again.

Vegeta awkwardly handled his son, trying to find the right position in his arms. Baby Trunks looked up at his father with lifefull curious eyes, making connection, and Vegeta knew he couldn't fool anyone anymore. He was proud of Trunks, the baby, the man outside, the one he'd turn into eventually. He loved him. And, he wouldn't let him down this time. Trunks deserved more.

Vegeta caught Future Trunks sneaking a look in and they both froze. Trunks took a step back, and he smiled, but it was distant and sad. This wasn't his mother. This wasn't his father, holding him, promising to take care of him. His family was forever broken.

Vegeta tried to stop his heart from getting carried away. He'd become good at controlling his emotions, hiding them away, but if someone really looked, as he feared Bulma did, they would have gathered the pain of regret. There were no second chances for Future Trunks. His father had never held him like this. His father never promised to stay. His father never married his mother. His father never told him he cared. His father died.

Vegeta glanced down at his son, the one he could give it all to, now asleep. They were lucky as hell. . . and it somewhat hurt.

AN- The more I write about Future Trunks, the more I feel sorry for him.


	23. Chapter 22

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 22-

If any part of him did not want to be combined into his single unit, it would be Ketchup. She was a feisty creature, who liked superiority and control. She also preferred being female. Sometimes Cell would catch himself thinking thoughts that weren't his (or, in other words, explicitly hers alone). She was stronger than the others, both bodily and mentally.

Cell's brain was very much his, but he feared that Ketchup could infiltrate it. Yakumi aliens were strong-willed and telepathic. It was not surprising that she hadn't fused completely. Her essence probably sent waves of activity to stimulate certain pathways in his brain.

One thing, above all else, worried Cell: That Ketchup could call her planet for help.

* * *

Bulma and baby Trunks would be in the hospital for at least two days, which gave them the perfect opportunity to enter the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. When Trunks and Vegeta arrived at The Lookout, Goku and Gohan were already there speaking with Mr. Popo.

Goku turned and waved at them before turning back to Mr. Popo.

"Kami is no longer and so I am now here all alone," Mr. Popo said. His eyes were wet and his thick red lips drooped.

"Mr. Piccolo fused with Kami? Does that mean he is not Piccolo anymore?" Gohan asked. The boy glanced from his father to Mr. Popo. It seemed like he was worried his friend, more like an uncle, changed dramatically and would not be the person he knew.

The black immortal genie paused. "He called himself the Namek with no name. Oh, what am I to do? Who am I to assist?"

"Well, if he can beat this Cell, it is worth it," Goku said.

Trunks listened in curiosity and patience. Vegeta grunted, not caring in the slightest. He knew Piccolo had no chance at beating Super Improved Cell. The only one who stood a chance was him. He stepped forward.

"I demand the use of the Time Chamber," Vegeta demanded.

His words jarred Mr. Popo, who was still lost in grief and confusion. Goku turned and smiled.

"Oh, Vegeta, we had the same idea," Goku said in a friendly tone.

Vegeta scowled. "No, we did not! I will never share the same thoughts of the likes of you." His comment brought back hideous memories of fusion. It was enough to send shivers down his spine.

The display puzzled Gohan, who couldn't understand the relationship between his father and Prince Vegeta. One day they were completely at odds, and the next they bickered like brothers. It was weird.

Goku laughed. "You can have the chamber first," he offered.

"That's right," Vegeta said. He began to walk off, knowing where to go. Trunks was startled but began to follow.

The shift in conversation jolted Mr. Popo out of his depression. He perked up. "Let me show you the way."

Vegeta kept moving, but Trunks listened to Mr. Popo as he acted as guide.

"One year inside is equivalent to one day on the outside. You will find everything you need. There is a bed, food, and bath. Nothing too luxurious, I'm afraid."

"I require nothing more than the essentials," Vegeta remarked. "It's not a vacation, it is training."

Goku turned and gave Vegeta a sharp look. "Forgive him, , he's always so uptight."

They walked down the corridor with stone floor. A white overhang and pillars curved around their heads along the path. The lookout resembled a palace of sorts, but Vegeta didn't find it fitting for a Saiyan prince. Finally, Mr. Popo stopped and presented a heavy brown door with a gold handle.

"This is it," he said.

Gohan peered at it in amazement and interest. "Woah, so that is the time chamber!"

Vegeta huffed. "Don't get so excited, brat, it's nothing special. Just a space to train." He took a step. "Okay, let's get going, Trunks."

Future Trunks nodded and stood by his father's side. He tried to stand up tall, but Vegeta detected a little nervousness. Hmm. . . And he should be. I'm not gonna go lightly on him, Vegeta thought.

The door swung open. Mr. Popo turned with large eyes. "Once you pass the threshold time will pass differently. A year in here will only be a day in this dimension."

"Yeah, we hear you. I just want to get on with this," Vegeta said with a huff.

Goku called, "Good luck, Vegeta, Trunks."

"I don't need any of it. Save the luck for yourself."

"Aw, Vegeta, don't be like that."

Vegeta turned. "I'm serious, Kakarot. I'm ten times as strong as you right now, and I'm about ready to get a hell of a lot stronger."

Trunks walked into the room first. "Thanks, Goku."

"Take care of Vegeta, okay?"

"Oh, shut up," Vegeta told Goku with a dark expression.

Goku chuckled with his mouth closed. Damn that third-class, always so cheery and annoying.

The time chamber was prettier than he remembered. It had blue wallpaper border with triangles and even a table with a vase of pink pansies. There were two round clocks that ticked loudly, one for the hyperbolic realm and another for outside. The blue floor tiles were clean and shiny as if freshly waxed. A wooden shelf on the wall contained a jar of healing balm. It was way too feminine and ornamental. This was a training facility, after all. When he said he needed only the essentials, he meant it. The gravity chamber at home was simple and spacious, no need for add-ons or frills. Vegeta had a feeling the chamber was decorated according to Mr. Popo's taste, and not intended for a warrior.

"It's hot and there is less air. And, the gravity is different," Trunks said. He glanced up at a gigantic clock overhead that encompassed the entire ceiling. He stepped further into the strange area. "What, I don't believe it! There is nothing here. We're floating in a vast void! What kind of place is this?"

Two massive hourglasses stood on either side of where they stood. Blue sand continued to pour down into the glass bottom. Three steps dropped off into what looked like the middle of nowhere.

Vegeta took off, heading into the whiteness. Trunks' eyes enlarged and he reached out, about to pull him back. Vegeta's boots met solidness, despite the illusion of a drop-off. "If it is too much for you, turn back."

"N-No. It's just a lot to take in, a little overwhelming. I know why few can stand a whole year in this place," Trunks said.

Pausing, Vegeta said, "But you and I are one of those few. We've done it before."

"Y-yeah. I keep forgetting."

The gravity became more intense the further they traveled in. The air grew thicker and it became harder to breathe. The temperature fluctuated from one spot to the next, majorly cold at one point and tremendously hot in another. Trunks had trouble lifting his legs in certain areas. Vegeta forced himself to be patient.

They trained together most of the time, but Vegeta separated sometimes because the boy held him back. He showed Trunks new moves he'd learned over the years, and how to ascend to new power levels. If they bonded, it wasn't over words. Trunks forced himself to keep up, and it became easier and easier for him every day. They rarely took breaks, even though Trunks probably wanted to. This Future son had more grit than his own and pressed on when it got tough. Vegeta realized that the boy made more progress this time around, given his guidance. It was around the sixth month that Vegeta comprehended that Trunks was improving too much. If he continued he might become almost as strong as he was.

Trunks awoke at six o'clock and discovered that his father had already ate breakfast and left to train. He hurried, downing a glass of juice and a few bowls of healthy oatmeal and fruit. He headed out. He found Vegeta deep in solitary movement, powered up to a Super Saiyan with yellow spikey hair that flowed down his back almost like a porcupine. This was something Trunks was not familiar with. A level beyond Super Saiyan two? He shed his Capsule Corporation jacket, the temperature too muggy. He was ready for Vegeta to instruct him on how to master this new level.

"What are you doing, boy?" Vegeta said in a gruff voice.

Trunks halted and blinked. "Joining you."

"We don't have to train together every second! Now go. I'd prefer to train by myself for a while."

This surprised Trunks because he'd just been following routine. It was hard to please Vegeta because the man changed his mind suddenly for apparently no reason. The lavender-haired young man grabbed his jacket and prepared to go off by himself, a little rejected. He figured he'd done something wrong to push his father away.

"And, tie your hair back, you look like a hobo," Vegeta said.

A small tug came to Trunks' lips. The statement was outwardly criticizing, but Trunks understood it as expressing something beneath the surface. An uncaring father would have not even noticed the length of his hair.

The days blurred on. Grueling days were accompanied by sleepless nights. Trunks was banished to a far corner so that Vegeta could practice alone. They occasionally met in the morning or at night in passing, and Vegeta would only grunt.

Close to the end of their retreat, Trunks sensed his father approach. He stood in his chest-armor, arms cross, and expression unreadable. Trunks stopped and lifted an eyebrow.

"Show me what you've learned," Vegeta instructed.

So, Trunks illustrated his glory. Vegeta waited for him to rush at him, not fighting back, only blocking. Trunks performed a few energy techniques such as spheres and cannons. Vegeta deflected them with little trouble. Trunks displayed a few martial arts moves, and then how he used them in conjunction with blasts. Vegeta nodded and Trunks was unconvinced he'd impressed him.

"Good enough," Vegeta commented.

He walked away, leaving Trunks panting, exhausted. Trunks lowered himself to the invisible ground and took a time-out. He watched his father disappear, short but head high, tallness not from height but power and superiority. Good enough? In regard to what? Did that mean he met his approval?

Vegeta, on the other hand, smirked. The boy had learned on his own, but slowed his progression. Good. There was no way he was going to let Trunks overthrow his rule. At least, not yet.

He sensed his son watch from afar and at those moments he let his Saiyan blood flow freely. He heightened his power, showing full capability. The father in him wanted his son to be proud, awed, and want to reach higher. Maybe someday he'd let Trunks pass him, like he did in his old age, but not here and not now. Vegeta was back in his prime, and everyone better know it, especially his family.

On the last day, Vegeta came to the realization that this was the last time he'd be alone with _this_ son. Their time together in seclusion was coming to an end. If he wanted to say anything, do anything, without another knowing, he had to do it now. Something nagged at him. He couldn't forget the look on Future Trunks' face as he watched with longing at the affection baby Trunks received after being born. Vegeta knew it wasn't his fault, this other him dying and leaving Future Trunks for good. Still, this future son seemed very much his son, and he couldn't help but empathize. He couldn't help but feel bad that he couldn't be in two places at once.

They had eaten in silence for 364 days, but on the 365th Vegeta broke it. He lifted his head from the stir fry and meat, and eyed Trunks, trying to muster the courage to be open and honest.

"Trunks."

His offspring practically jumped. He slurped a noodle and stared. "Yes, Father?"

The noodle slurp and the smidgeon of dark sauce at the corner of Trunks' mouth were so familiarly acts of his own Trunks- the one who wasn't so polite, a tad messy, and spirited. Vegeta wondered if this Trunks ever played, given his ruggedness. All those excruciating trips to the park hadn't gone to waste on his own son. Of course, he wanted Trunks to be strong and unwavering, but he admitted that he welcomed his lively grin occasionally.

"Trunks. . ." Hell. . . "Do you know anything about the Namek balls?"

Trunks nodded. "Mother mentioned them."

"Then you know that they are more powerful than the dragon balls on Earth."

Another nod.

"They don't have a time limit on death and may be able to cross dimensions," Vegeta continued.

Trunks thought for a moment. His eyes lit up. "Are you saying that. . .?"

Vegeta stood up and wouldn't meet Trunks' gaze. "Once we defeat Cell I will go to Namek and wish for your father back. And the rest if that's what you want."

That had Trunks agape. He hadn't anticipated that his father would offer to make the wish for him. Trunks stood as well, gripping the table.

"I know that Goku cannot come back because of natural causes. But- Mother will be so happy to have Dad back. And Gohan. . . ," Trunks said. He smiled, the first real smile since he arrived from the future.

Vegeta crossed his arms. "Don't expect too much. Your father is probably an ass." Like I was, Vegeta told himself. I hope he isn't disappointed.

Trunks chuckled. "So I've heard."

When they emerged from the chamber, their bodies were hardened, their clothing ripped and snagged. Their ki levels were sharp and alert, ready for anything. Vegeta appeared closed-off as usual, but his eyes were a little softer when he looked Trunks' way. Trunks looked older, more man than boy now, but his features showed optimism and hope. Something had occurred between these two and everyone knew they couldn't ask what.

AN- I have been trying to write this for days but for some reason it was hard to get out, but there you go. I feel like I better get the Eighteen part written, but I have a bit of writers block. Oh, and I have some ideas for some short stories that I might do soon.


	24. Chapter 23

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- Thank you so much for the reviews! They make my day brighter.

Chapter 23-

One day remained before Bulma and the brat came home to demand his attention. There was one more thing he needed to do before then. Something that was his responsibility. He knew Bulma had her idea of how to handle the situation, but he had his own. Trunks thought he was crazy when he asked the boy to carry Android 18 into the gravity chamber. He insisted on standing by, just in case, and held the energy remote controller.

"Don't you dare turn that dial unless I tell you to," Vegeta warned.

The hesitant reaction from Trunks made Vegeta growl. "I mean it," he added. "This is my business."

Trunks turned Android 18 on with the remote his mother in this timeline created and stood back. Her eyes fluttered and she sat up, shaking her head as if dizzy. Her fuzzy eyes stared up at Vegeta before they sharpened. She scrambled up, going into an alert fighting stance, fists ready.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Trunks smiled. "That is my father, Vegeta, prince of all Siayans."

Vegeta glared. "Who asked you! I said before, this is my business, boy. If you can't stand aside and stay quiet, leave!"

Taken aback, Trunks stepped over to the side, out of the way. He almost crossed his arms, but it was hard to holding the remote. His arms fell, nervous.

Android 18 pierced her lips together and looked around at the chamber. The chamber was spacious, domed, with tiled floor. She took in the closed door and the large handle, her eyes darkening.

"Where am I? How did I get here?" she asked.

"This is my training facility. I've been gracious enough not to turn on the gravity machine. However, if you'd rather, I could turn it on. Might make things more interesting," Vegeta said.

"Can you be any more vague? Look, why am I here? I don't have time for this. I have things to do," she said. She made a dash for the door. Trunks went to block it, but Vegeta grabbed her arm first. He slammed her to the metal wall and pinned her in place.

"Your mission is over with," Vegeta told her.

She struggled, getting in a good kick to the groin. He groaned. He may be a warrior, but he still had his weak spot just like any male. She took that opening to kick at him again. "Where is my brother?"

Vegeta straightened and blocked her bombardment of attempted attacks. "That's the thing, girl, woman, appliance, whatever you are. I killed him, along with your maker, Dr. Gero."

No need to sugar-coat it. He'd brought her here to dish it all out, plain and simple. The place served its purpose to keep the house safe and contain her in a controlled environment.

Her body shook with rage or grief, or both. Blindly she freed herself of all self-regulation, letting loose with punches and kicks. It was sloppy. Vegeta caught the wetness in her eyes. This was what he wanted, although he wouldn't reveal it verbally to Trunks, or to her. The reason for awakening her here was to allow her the opportunity to unleash her heartache and vengeance. Of course, she couldn't harm him, but he'd allow her the chance to unleash her emotions.

He barely had to fight back. He moved only to block. She discovered the hardness of his flesh and the agility he possessed. She beat at him over and over, and he allowed a few to hit him. He owed her that.

"You bastard! He was my brother!"

"That's right. And he's gone. I shot him with a blast and made him explode to a million pieces." It was harsh, but it was the truth.

Eighteen hollered. She unleashed energy waves in streams and balls, different shapes and sizes, even color. He dodged them but a few managed to graze him, burning his training shorts and muscle-shirt. She rushed at him, jabbing until she sucked in air, unable to catch her breath. Funny how androids breathed. He let her go on until she grew slow and sluggish.

Vegeta grabbed hold of both her arms and held them firmly behind her back. She bucked and squirmed against him.

"Look, I think you're gorgeous, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped your wriggling about. Only my woman is allowed to get me going," Vegeta said.

Trunks made a horrified sound. He stared, mouth open, deer in the headlights. The statement was something he found embarrassing and scarring. Vegeta may have been crude, but her actions were just as so.

She may have spit in his face but he grabbed her face between his fingers before she could. "Are you done yet?"

Give up already, he thought. I have better ways to spend my day.

"Should I lower her power level?" Trunks asked.

"No!" Vegeta said.

"But-"

Eighteen mumbled something. Vegeta let go of her. She pushed at him.

She narrowed her slanted eyes. "Am I your captive now, is that it?" she spat.

"You could put it that way. Be a good girl and you can win your freedom. Be a bad girl and it is nighty-night." He gestured over to his son who waved the remote.

She held out her hands as if to be cuffed. Her features were hardened and full of hatred. Vegeta looked at her sternly. She'd need to be guarded at all times.

"All right, Trunks, get her out of here, I'm going to train," Vegeta demanded.

Trunks froze. "What?"

"You heard me. I have to get myself ready for Cell. I don't have time to act as baby-sitter."

"I don't know. . ." Trunks said.

"Do what you like, but don't kill her, that's all I ask."

Maybe it wasn't such a wise decision to offer the android up to Future Trunks, who wanted to eliminate her as a threat. But, Vegeta refused to watch her. Bulma's parents were at the hospital, spending every moment ooing and awing over his baby son like he was the only thing that gave them purpose now. Trunks was the only option.

The next day, Bulma arrived home. She didn't even notice anything different for another two days. She went down to the laboratory to fetch something and screamed. Android 18 sat huddled, pouting in a corner.

"Mom?" Trunks said nearby at his post.

Bulma ran back upstairs and grabbed baby Trunks from his crib. She held him to her chest and smothered him. She carried him to the gravity chamber and found her husband in the middle of intense meditation. He snapped out of it the second the door banged open.

"Vegeta, there is a psycho android on the loose in our lab!"

Her shrill voice made him flinch. "Woman, relax, the boy is watching her."

"Relax? You expect me to relax?" She heaved. "This was my project, why did you interfere!"

He rolled his eyes. "It was Dr. Gero's project. You stole his idea to create the damn remote. Now go back inside and leave me be."

After that, Bulma never let baby Trunks out of her sight. She carried him around from room to room to Vegeta's disgust. He complained about her coddling him, but she made her argument that she had to protect him from the android in the basement. This didn't make much sense because they had the remote to fall back on.

She even brought the child to bed. Vegeta couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't about to let his son ruin their private life. Naturally, he needed to get the android out of the house.

"Woman, we can't have the boy watch him 24 /7. You, call up Krillin and have him take over," Vegeta ordered.

Bulma halted, her fingers about ready to fascine the disposable diaper closed. Vegeta had his back turned, snooty, not going to get an eyeful of poo. He was above such matters. Baby Trunks lay on the changing table, and played with his fisted hands, waving them back and forth over his face. He made some cooing noises.

"Krillin?" Bulma asked. "Why him?"

"Well, it seems fitting to ask him. Everyone important is training to defeat Super Improved Cell. He can stand to go without a few sessions," he said.

Bulma finished the diaper change and picked Trunks up. She tickled him lightly under the chin. "There you go, my darling Trunksie, all dry and clean. Doesn't that feel better?" She spun around. "What are you implying? That Krillin shouldn't go with you to fight Cell because he doesn't stand a chance of being any help? That is rude."

Vegeta smirked. "I'm a rude man. And, he can come. I'm only saying a few extra training sessions aren't going to matter much for the weaker bunch."

"So, you want to drag him over to babysit an android? And he will just drop everything why?"

"You might be surprised. Especially if you describe her gorgeous blue eyes over the phone."

She fretted over the baby again, but still talked. "What is that supposed to mean? You don't mean-"

"The bald one has a crush on her."

"What?" she screeched too loudly. Baby Trunks fussed. She rocked him. "I'm sorry, Mommy is sorry for being so loud."

Vegeta sighed. "Just call him."

"Why don't you call him?" She glanced down at her son. "I've got my hands full."

"Woman, he's your friend."

"So?"

He touched his forehead and closed his eyes. "You'd be doing the bald man a favor. I don't like to give too much away, but his future might depend on it."

Bulma studied Vegeta, mulling over his words. "No way!" she finally said in outburst. "Krillin gets with Eighteen!"

That changed her whole attitude. She liked the idea of acting as match-maker. She seemed to forget Eighteen was supposedly a homicidal android out to get her son. She passed Trunks over to Vegeta at his protest.

"I told you, I have my hands full. If you want me to call, you better free them," Bulma said.

Vegeta stood awkwardly, unsure how to handle an infant alone. The baby gazed up at him with large eyes, taking him in. At least the kid had been changed, so there was no danger of disgusting smells. He decided to go get a snack from the fridge.

The kitchen was Mrs. Brief's usual station (besides the garden), and so she was there on his arrival. Her face brightened.

"Oh, Vegeta, you look adorable with him!" she gushed.

He slammed the jar of mayonnaise on the counter with a tremendous thump. This wasn't a good idea because Trunks began to holler.

"Shush, brat!" he exclaimed.

This made Trunks cry more.

"You have to calm him," Mrs. Brief said. She came over and touched his cheek and then stepped back. "Why don't you try?"

He huffed but stroked his index finger down Trunks' cheek, channeling the way he'd handled Bra. His son's cries slowed and then silenced. His eyes drooped and then he fell asleep. Vegeta grumbled under his breath and began to make a sandwich with one arm. Mrs. Brief stepped in and finished the concoction of cold meat and bread for him.

How in the world could Bulma stand the presence of the kid nonstop? Vegeta sat down in the living room to eat and hold the slumbering baby. He was okay when he was quiet, he supposed. Vegeta examined the kid. He had a strong jaw- one of the Saiyan royal facial features. His nose was Bulma's, which was passible. The only thing he would have changed was the blasphemous purple hair. Lavender, Bulma always corrected.

He waited for Bulma to emerge and relieve him so he could get back to working out. She took her time, probably going upstairs to do some Capsule Corp business in the offices, or taking some time to pamper herself, such as painting her nails. Before he knew it, he napped as well.

When he awoke, he found a black digital camera pointed in his direction. He reached out to fling it away. Bulma pulled backwards and giggled. Trunks shifted in his arms and made a baby breathing noise but didn't wake up.

"What in the love of Kami are you doing?"

"Making memories," she said. "Don't worry, I won't show anyone but Trunks."

At least she knew not to pass the photo around at parties. He let it go, just because he'd been such a bad father the first round. This would be proof later that he made an effort.

Just then the doorbell rang. "That'll be Krillin to android sit," Bulma said. Vegeta went to give Trunks to her but she dodged for the door, ignoring him. He frantically looked around for a place to deposit the kid, but came up empty-handed. He was too slow to vacate the room before Krillin stepped in a saw. Ugh, so much for dignity.

"Hey, Bulma, hi, Vegeta," Krillin said, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary seeing him holding his son in public. Bulma smiled.

They began to speak and Vegeta realized he was the only one anxious and uptight over the soft display. Everyone found it natural. Why it was so difficult to hold his son, the boy, was a mystery. He'd held Bra all the time- but she was a girl. He'd rarely held Trunks, and when he had, it'd been outward with two hands, never close. He just wasn't used to this. The child felt warm against him, his presence strong.

"You need me to fix something?" Krillin asked. The man was good at acting as a handy-man as long as it wasn't something electronic. He came over to unclog the sink before and fix a dent in the wall Trunks and Goten made once.

"Actually, Krillin," Bulma said. "We called you over to look after Android 18 for a while."

Vegeta didn't like how she included him with 'we'.

Krillin scratched the back of his smooth head and glanced down. "Android 18? I-I don't know . . ."

"It won't be hard. I made this remote that you can use if she tries anything," Bulma said. She led Krillin off toward the laboratory.

Vegeta stood, still holding Trunks. He hadn't tried very hard to get her attention in an attempt to free him of his burden. He sat back down and flipped on the television. This wasn't _that_ bad, he guessed, but it better not become a regular routine.


	25. Chapter 24

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- If anyone has not noticed, chapter 1 of the spin-off has been posted. The story is called Reconstruction. It is going to be somewhat darker than this story, but still will have B/V goodness. Chapter 1 begins before Trunks ventured out with the time machine.

Chapter 24-

"We've got to get that android out of the house!" Bulma declared, hands on her hips.

Vegeta lowered his book on ancient swords (he wanted to be the know-all for Trunks when he took an interest) with a raised eyebrow.

"I just went down to the lab to grab my notes on the new indoor gravity chamber and discovered Eighteen on top of Krillin," she continued.

"So?"

"So! She was trying to seduce him so she could get the remote!"

He shut the paperback book. "And. . . Isn't that what w-you wanted? To get them all hot and bothered?"

She sighed. "You are missing the point! First off, I really don't want them doing indecent things down in the laboratory. Second-"

He gave her his half-smirk. "We've done far worse down in that lab, remember?"

Blushing, she averted her eyes. "What if I take Trunks down there and walk into something? I think we could convince them to vacate and go to Kame House."

"Good. Take care of it." He picked up his book and flipped to the page he'd marked.

Irritated, she shook her head. "Grrr, why is this all on me? You started this mess to begin with."

Without looking up, he said, "Think about it. You really want me to handle this _my_ way?"

Bulma paused. "Okay, good point."

Master Roshi was thrilled to hear that a pretty girl, machinery or not, would come to stay on the island. He practically panted over the phone, and Bulma actually felt a little sorry for Android 18. When she introduced the idea to Krillin he was actually pretty receptive. He scratched his head and looked down nervously or embarrassed, but agreed that Android 18 needed to get out of Capsule Corporation.

"And, you'll have the remote. If she tries anything just press the red button," Bulma said.

"Yeah, about that. . . Uh, I kinda destroyed it."

"What!" Bulma shrieked, eyes wide, panicked. There was nothing keeping the android at bay. She glanced around, as if the android would appear around the corner of the kitchen at any moment ready to spring into attack.

Krillin played with his thumbs. "Well, we were wrestling . . ." He looked up. "Over the remote," he quickly clarified. "I almost bumped the button by accident. I – I smashed it to show her that she could trust me. She's just so sad and I feel sorry for her. I wanted her to believe that I wasn't an enemy out to get her. Plus, she's . . ." He coughed.

So pretty, Bulma internally finished.

"Do you want me to make another one?" Bulma asked.

He shook his head. "Naw, don't bother. That would defeat the purpose of my breaking it."

"Are you sure you can manage her?" It was a stupid question. She knew that if Android 18 wanted to get loose she probably would. She also knew that her husband could hunt her down and take her out in one blow.

"She has nowhere else to go. I think she'll like the island instead of being cooped up here."

Bulma caught a pair of slanted eyes peek around the corner of the kitchen, but the look was not in the slightest bit homicidal. Instead, she seemed shocked and confused. When Android 18 spotted Bulma, she ducked out of sight.

So, Android 18 left with Krillin. Her last few facial expressions before leaving were murderous but she made no move to act upon her feelings. Krillin grabbed her arm and she jumped.

"Hold on and we'll fly," Krillin said.

She snatched her arm back, even blushing. "I can fly on my own!"

"Oh, right."

When they left, Bulma wondered if they really would get married and have a child like Vegeta insisted was their fate. It was too incredulous to think about. But then again . . . She glanced over at Vegeta who held baby Trunks out with a scrunched up nose. A normal human woman ending up with a bloodthirsty alien prince was just as incredulous, maybe more so. Definitely more so, given that he was from the future to boot.

Bulma went to his rescue and took Trunks for his diaper change.

Days passed. Vegeta grew antsy for what he called The Cell Games. Surprising, his time was not entirely spent in the gravity chamber, but also with her. She could tell that he was frustrated about her inability to have sex until she received the doctor's approval. She tried to show intimacy in other ways, touching him and helping release his tension. As time grew closer, instead of locking himself away in the GR to pack in as much training as possible, he turned to her instead.

He held her naked against him, silent. They'd just finished making out, in which she gave him a really good oral session. In return, he fingered her in the places that were safe without going too deep. They cuddled and Bulma would have been at peace if the bond they shared hadn't given away that he was unsettled mentally.

She rose onto her right elbow and reached out with her left hand to comb his disheveled hair up. "Are you okay, hun?" It was the first time she'd used the endearment and was nervous when he froze but then he relaxed.

"Course I am," he lied.

"You're going to beat this Super Improved Cell. Because you are my Prince of All Saiyans. There is nothing that can stand in your way. Not even death."

He rolled them over, straddling her, pinning her arms above her head. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Think that highly of me, do you?"

She grinned. "You're amazing. The best of the best. The prince of all princes. The rice to the soy sauce."

"I don't use soy sauce."

"But I do," she breathed out as he bent down to launch onto a nipple.

Vegeta's new erection pushed against her thigh and her grin turned evil. He was going to need help again. She reached down to take care of it.

The next morning, Mrs. Brief fixed them a larger meal than even that for a Saiyan family. Bulma finished first, but Vegeta and Future Trunks kept going strong, digging into the eggs with a flourish. She fetched baby Trunks and heated a bottle of breast-milk to feed him as well. She settled back down at the table, cradling her baby and watching the father and her older son gobble away. She noticed that Trunks was a bit slower, taking time to actually enjoy the food. She glanced down at baby Trunks and smiled. That's right, she thought, I taught you to chew.

Trunks cleaned his plate and set down the silverware. He looked intently over at Vegeta.

"What is it, boy?" Vegeta swallowed his mug of coffee.

"Father, I want to be ready for this battle. Tell me everything you know about Cell."

The prince leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "Cell is made up of the greatest warriors: Me, you, Kakarot, Piccolo, Tien, and Vegeta Jr., my future great-grandson. Your daughter's son. Hedoro should have included Gohan in the bunch, but he must have somehow not clued in on his potential. Don't be surprised to have your friends' attacks used, or even your own. But that isn't the main concern. It's the Yakumi aliens. I think Hedoro called them Ketchup and Mustard."

Trunks leaned back and crossed his arms as well. Bulma smiled at the mirror image. Like father like son.

"What are the Yakumi?" Trunks asked.

"An ancient race of aliens form the planet Yakum. I was sent there on a mission from Frieza to purge the Yakumi," Vegeta said.

Bulma took the bottle out of baby Trunks' mouth and proceeded to burp him over her shoulder. She watched Vegeta closely, but he seemed closed off, pushing his emotions down. The topic seemed to catch her unexpectedly because she forgot anymore how vicious he had been. He'd changed so much, so drastically at once.

"The Yakumi are just as warrior-like as the Saiyans. They are very strong, but also strong-willed. They have the ability to communicate telepathically with one another. They also have the capability of joining essences after death."

Trunks stared. "Essences after death? What do you mean?"

"When a Yakumi dies, everything that made that Yakumi what it was passes on to another member of their race. They are made of generations of ancestors, taking in their abilities and memories. There is no limit to their power."

The expression on Trunks grew troubled. He uncrossed his arms and held the table. Bulma wanted to reach out and comfort him but knew this was warrior business and shouldn't interfere. She settled for nestling baby Trunks against her chest.

Bulma did not ask the question she wanted to ask. Trunks beat her to it.

"Did you purge the planet?"

Vegeta hardened his eyes. "No."

There was a long span of silence. Bulma felt her heart clench. She remembered the moment of worry that passed over him the night before during their intimacy. He'd been thinking too hard and she wondered if it'd been about this Yakumi ordeal. He hadn't beaten the Yakumi before, and some part of him doubted whether he could now. There was no way he would verbalize it, but she knew.

She stood up to put Trunks down for his nap. She stood over the crib and took her time before exiting the room. She breathed in heavily.

There wasn't much that made the Prince of All Saiyans doubt himself. She hugged her arms and wished there was a current guardian to pray to.

AN- I didn't really know where I was going until I remembered that Goku goes to Namek to ask Dende to be the next guardian. While he is there, why not use the dragon balls? Yep, that's right. I'm thinking Vegeta and Trunks should hitch a ride to bring back the other Vegeta.


	26. Chapter 25

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- I was highly disappointed with the last chapter, so let's hope this one is better.

Chapter 25-

The television was on and Bulma bounced a fussy baby Trunks in her arms. Images of chaos were on the screen, explosions and shouts heard as military planes attempted to use missiles on Super Improved Cell. The bombs bounced off his skin like they were paper airplanes. The camera shook as the red and yellow monster stepped out, unharmed, from the fading smoke. The news switched to an announcer who told citizens to stay indoors and stock up on food and supplies.

Bulma placed a hand over her mouth. "How horrible," she said.

Coming up behind her on the sofa, Vegeta said, "Foolish humans to think their measly technology could destroy such a being."

She turned, her eyes lit-up. "And what were we supposed to do, Vegeta, sit back and wait as he slaughtered civilians?"

He went over and grabbed the remote, switching it off. He was surprised she'd let their son watch such devastation. Not that he cared, but she was always going on about not exposing him to this or that. She sat back and glared at him.

Vegeta swept his hand aside. "Oh, don't worry, woman, the tenderhearted Kakarot won't let this slide. He'll bring them back with those magic balls."

The words were meant to soothe her, and they did at first, but then her features hardened. He frowned back, unsure what upset her.

"You knew. You knew they were going to get killed, and you didn't do anything to stop it."

Annoyed, he pinched the bridge of his nose. How could she turn this on blaming him?

"I have more important things to worry about than saving a bunch of Earthlings that will be brought back. Haven't you seen how hard I've been working to become strong enough to save this mudball of a planet? A handful is insignificant over the entire population."

Bulma gave him a long look and then sighed. He knew she was going to let it drop. Still, he knew he had disappointed her. She seemed to think that he was some sort of saint now, and if that was the case she was going to be let down a lot. True, he'd changed, he would openly declare his affection for his family, and keep them safe, but that didn't mean he had warm fuzzy feelings for the weak inhabitants. He had no desire to harm anyone on purpose, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to become a savior to strangers like that appalling Saiyaman.

They had a staring contest for a moment, in which they silently communicated. Vegeta thought she understood. She always seemed to get him like no one else, even if the results weren't to her standards.

"Where is Trunks, the other Trunks?" he asked.

She blinked. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since breakfast. He is just as aloof as you used to be these past few days."

"And, why wouldn't the boy be? He's going to leave soon. It isn't surprising that he is scarce in order to loosen attachment."

Sadness filled her eyes but she didn't cry, although Vegeta thought she would have if alone. She glanced down at the purple-haired baby in her arms, now asleep.

"I'm going to miss him," she said softly.

The sentiments were too much. Vegeta scowled. "Stupid, woman, you have your son right there. Stop with the moping."

"Don't act like he's just a clone. I know you care about him too. I've seen you go off together to train. That has to mean something. You're going to miss him , whether he is the same person as this baby. You won't be able to train with him for years, and even then it won't be the same. Not for many years, maybe not ever."

Vegeta turned so his back faced her. His hands fisted. He didn't want to face her statements. They had double meaning to him. The words brought up the fact that Future Trunks was slightly different than the other him, given that he had other experiences. Also, he came to realize that the baby Trunks wouldn't be the exact son he left behind in the future. In a sense, that Trunks never existed, except in his memories. He wasn't going to let himself ponder over whether Bulma was the same, or go into Bra.

"We are going back to the hyperbolic time chamber," he declared.

He left the room, not processing that she didn't know what the time chamber was. He followed Trunks' ki outside to find the young man sitting cross-legged in the grass. He had his eyes closed, deep in meditation. Vegeta stood there, watching from a distance. Damn Bulma, for breaking down his wall. It was easier to get lost in exercises of the body in order to escape the mind.

Now, the floodgates of emotions poured in. This Future Trunks was special and he'd leave soon. If he went into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber like he planned, they'd have another year together, but still, he'd go eventually. The fact that his son was meditating enforced that the here and now was all that a person had. There were two more days until Cell's game, long enough to go back into the Time Chamber and prepare his goodbye gift.

Vegeta walked into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. He flipped through the telephone book for the Son resident number. Chi-Chi answered the phone politely but when she discovered who was on the other end he had to pull the earpiece away.

"Just give me your husband, woman. It's important," he growled.

"You're going to take my Goku away from me again, aren't you? I have two more precious days with him," she whined.

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he heard Goku enter the room and try to calm her down. He tried to block out the sound of a kiss. Finally, Goku came on the line.

"Vegeta? You are calling me?" he sounded happy and amazed.

"This isn't a pleasure call, Kakarot. Have you been watching the news? Are you planning on going to Namek for a set of new dragon balls or not?"

"Yeah, how'd you know? Oh, right, you are from the future, I forgot. Yeah, I'm going. We need a new guardian for Earth."

"Take me with you," Vegeta said.

"You want to come, that's great!"

Vegeta tapped his foot. "This isn't a friendly pleasure cruise, I have important business with the Nameks."

"You want to use the Namek balls," Goku said, not even a question. "But what for? It better not be immortality again."

"Don't be stupid!" Vegeta snapped.

"Are you going to wish for Bulma to be eternally young? Or for the gravity chamber to never explode?"

"Stop trying to guess, none of those are right."

Goku laughed, indicating that he'd been joking.

Vegeta felt Trunks step in and he grew nervous at having an audience. "You'll find out the reason when we get there. You can try and stop me if you want, but I think the wishes will meet your moral code."

"I trust you, Vegeta," Goku said.

Vegeta 'humphed'.

They agreed to meet up after Vegeta and Trunks went into the Time Chamber for a second round. Vegeta slammed the phone down, upset with all the contact he'd been having with others. He longed to lock himself away in the gravity chamber for privacy.

Trunks smiled. "Are we going to Namek?"

Vegeta frowned. "I suppose you can tag along."

"Thanks, Dad." It wasn't a thank you for allowance to go along, but for the act itself. Vegeta winced at the 'Dad' and yet again hoped he hadn't become a model for what Trunks expected his real father to be like.

"Wipe that grin off your face. I'm doing this for you on one condition. That we go into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and you prove to me that you can make your father proud. His standards are greater than mine."

Trunks sobered. "I understand."

AN- Next up, Namek


	27. Chapter 26

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 26-

The second trip in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber was more enjoyable and painful at the same time. Vegeta trained more by his son's side this time, and witnessed him ascend at a rapid speed. The boy was so eager to learn so that he could make his own father proud. Vegeta cringed inside, admitting that it might have the adverse effect.

"Look, boy, you're going to have to slow it down," he said.

Trunks spun, sweaty, hair yet again grown out to past his shoulders. His eyes told a disappointed story. "Why?"

"Because, if your father is really like how I was, getting an eye-full of someone who has surpassed him ten-fold is going to ruin his ego." He didn't want to tell Trunks that he too felt a strain on his pride. The boy was too close to the threshold of his own power level.

At first, Trunks seemed surprised, maybe a little proud, but then he really caught on and became startled. Vegeta understood. It really was hard to win with him. He was a difficult man who looked down on the weak and became angry when people were far above him. He was still that way, and he couldn't let that go. It was ingrained in him, in his Saiyan upbringing and blood. And, he chose to keep it because it kept him from becoming _too_ human or approachable. It allowed him to hold onto something that he'd possessed when he'd landed on the planet, something that still remained his character.

When the days ran out, Trunks had a light of readiness in his eyes. He would get his own father back, meet the true prodigy. Vegeta felt hollowness in his chest, as if something was being taken from him. Like he was being replaced. By himself. He tried to talk himself out of it. The old Vegeta wouldn't have let it get to him, and so he knew he had the willpower to stuff the foolishness down.

Before they left, Vegeta cut Trunks hair, telling him he couldn't meet his paternity looking like a bum. Trunks talked away about how excited his mother was going to be, and Vegeta caught on that possibly he was more concerned with his mother's welfare than an actual need for a father figure in his life. The more he talked the more he sounded like the Trunks he used to know, _his_ Trunks, the one he raised. The boy was becoming hopeful and not so dark-minded. He wouldn't bring up the fact that they hadn't defeated Super Improved Cell yet and that two androids still awaited him on the other side.

"I've said it before; don't get your expectations too high. I was probably more of a burden on your mother than support," Vegeta said. For the glimmer of a second he wondered if this was even a good idea. Maybe he should leave well enough alone. It might hurt Bulma more to get him back and have himself leave. Without Kakarot to keep him around . . . Too late now. Trunks was too set on this to have second thoughts.

"But she loved you anyways," Trunks said, serious.

Vegeta lowered his gaze. "Yes, but I fought it tooth and nail. Which hurt her. Are you sure you want to chance it?" He lowered the scissors.

Trunks turned, his lavender hair cropped in his usual hairstyle. His expression was incredulous, the answer written. "She's hurting now, far worse. I'm all she's got."

Vegeta nodded, and that was that.

They emerged to find Goku lounging about in wait at the lookout terrace while Mr. Popo served him hot herbal tea. The annoying clown insisted that they stay long enough for Mr. Popo to bring out his fresh-baked pastries. Vegeta threw a fit but relented when the scent of warm dough wafted in the air.

"Hang on tight," Goku instructed after they'd eaten heaping stacks of doughnuts and cream-filled sweet rolls.

Goku used instant transmission to King Kai's planet. The purple sky was clear and the air was pleasant. King Kai lay on a lawn-chair, basking in the sun. The rush left Trunks a little dizzy on his feet but Vegeta stood steady and released Goku quickly. The irritating monkey ooked and eeked, making Vegeta cringe. Get on with it, he silently begged.

"Goku," King Kai greeted, staring back behind sunglasses. "And, you've brought friends."

"Sure did," Goku said. He proceeded to tell King Kai about Super Improved Cell and their predicament on Earth.

Meanwhile, Bubbles began to jump around in a circle around Vegeta. Growling, Vegeta kicked out at him, trying to shoo the monkey away. Trunks picked the brown monkey up and said, "There, Father," setting him aside. It was humiliating to be saved from a small animal.

"He probably wants to play tag," Goku said.

"None of us have time for games, Kakarot. Get on with the mission," Vegeta said menacingly.

The next thing Vegeta knew, another bothersome creature, this time a green cricket, hummed in the background. Vegeta slapped his forehead. It was times like these when he wondered where the little patience he possessed came from.

"Kakarot, if you don't hurry it up I'm going to blast the wee folks to smithereens!" Vegeta barked.

"You wouldn't do that to your own kind," Goku said teasingly.

"You might be a brainless monkey, but I am not!"

Goku explained to King Kai that Earth needed a new guardian. The blue-skinned alien with antennae considered it and then agreed to search for the new Namek. King Kai concentrated hard and grunted, while his feelers twitched. Bubbles hopped and stuck out his tongue in Vegeta's direction. If he wouldn't have disturbed the process of finding Namek, Vegeta would have tossed the brat all the way into hell. Suddenly electricity sprouted out of King Kai's antennae and he made a bunch of weird noises.

Goku scrambled backwards. "Can't you be serious?"

"You're one to talk," Vegeta said.

King Kai laughed with snorts, but then became serious. "Hold on, pack your suitcase, I think I've found them." He pointed, which made Vegeta frown because there was nothing there but grass and purple sky, but Goku looked where his finger landed.

Placing two fingers to the spot between his eyes, Goku focused and then perked up. "Oh, there, I'm surprised I didn't see it earlier. Oh well. Come on, guys, we're going to Namek."

Upon arrival, Vegeta wouldn't meet Trunks' gaze. He wanted to get the task over with because he didn't like the sensations arising within him. It felt like Bra's wedding day when he handed her over to _that looser_. This was not the same, but in a way he was handing his son over to someone who was inferior and didn't deserve him- his past self. He knew this other Vegeta wasn't good enough for his son and probably wouldn't take care of him or his mother. They would both be disappointed. Yet again, he questioned whether he was doing them a favor or committing them to further pain.

The village of the Namekians was humble, pretty much falling apart in Vegeta's eyes. At least they were attempting to rebuild the mess Frieza and even he left. Young green aliens fetched water into clay pots from the river. The villagers gathered around to take in the visitors. Some seemed alarmed, especially the children.

"Wow, look at all the Piccolos," Goku muttered.

The elder stepped forward, sizing the three up. "Are you friend or foe?"

Goku scratched his head. "Friend, we're from the planet Earth. My name is Goku and I was just wondering . . ."

The elder grew excited and held up fisted hands. "Ahh, then you must be the great Saiyan Goku. The one who saved our people from Frieza."

Conversation turned to business about the guardian. Trunks watched patiently but Vegeta stood aside, bored and agitated. They called over Dende who had large eyes, enthusiastic to take on the new position. All was prepared for the new dragon balls.

"Hold up," Vegeta said, taking center-stage. "There's that business I mentioned earlier."

Goku nodded. As air-headed as he could be he obviously hadn't forgotten. He spoke with the elder. He gestured to Vegeta. "My friend would like to use your dragon balls."

The elder, Moori, examined Vegeta as if trying to look into his soul. "That depends on the wishes."

"What are the wishes?" Goku asked curiously.

Trunks joined in. "Actually, they are my wishes," he said.

"Oh, I know, you are going to bring back the Z-fighters from your time. Wow, that is something!"

Sometimes Goku wasn't such an idiot.

"Did you think of that, Vegeta? That's really noble of you, to consider your wife and son on the other side."

"I just don't like the idea of me being dead somewhere," Vegeta lied.

It took more explaining, done by Trunks and Goku, for Moori to agree at letting them use the Namek dragon balls. He brought them to a hill near some weird trees with blue rounded tops. A few Namekians brought out the grand balls and laid them out on the grass. Moori explained that the dragon balls had been strengthened on New Namek, so using them to bring back multiple people would work.

Dende offered to act as translator and they began the wish ceremony. The small Namek stood with his arms up and called upon Porunga. Flashes of light streamed from the large dragon balls, blinding the group gathered. Vegeta squinted. When he was able to open his eyes fully again, the brutal-looking dragon had appeared. He hovered over them, massive and overpowering.

Porunga's voice boomed. "The seven dragon balls have been gathered, state your three wishes."

"Tell the overgrown alligator to bring the non-decomposed bodies of the alternate timeline's Vegeta, Krillin, Piccolo, Gohan, and Tien here," Vegeta instructed.

"And Yamcha," Goku added.

Vegeta huffed. Oh well, if it made Bulma happy . . .

Porunga's mouth opened to display sharp teeth. "That wish can be granted."

The six bodies lay out before them, their skin unharmed, clothing unmarred. They appeared to only be sleeping. Goku glanced curiously at them with a mildly sad expression. Trunks avoided them, especially the direction of his father and Gohan's bodies.

"What is your second wish?" Porunga questioned, moving them along.

"Bring them to life, right, guys?" Goku said.

Crossing his arms, Vegeta said sarcastically," No, I gathered them here to gaze upon their deadness. Of course, we are bringing them back. Dende, tell Mr. Alligator to bring them back."

Yet again, Dende spoke in the weird Namekian tongue. The dragon's red eyes stared back with intensity. He accepted the wish. No one breathed, waiting in anticipation. Trunks was very still.

A groan came and then Krillin stirred. He slowly sat up, holding his bald head. "Ugh, my head."

"Krillin," Goku stated with glee.

The monk shook his head to clear it. His blurry eyes focused on his friend. "Goku?" Then his eyes widened and he scooted backwards. "Goku! No way, you are dead! Wait, aren't I dead?" He began to pat his body with his hands.

The others, one by one, moved. The uprising of questions began. Gohan gaped at Goku, and pointed. "Dad?"

"It's me, son."

Gohan couldn't help but scramble up and go in for a hug. Beside the Vegeta of this time, Trunks' eyes misted. He let the weakness go, just this once.

The other Vegeta, in upper battle armor, stood and the two princes frowned at each other. Am I really that short? Vegeta thought.

"Why is my body over there?" the previously dead Vegeta asked.

"There are two Vegetas," Yamcha stated the obvious.

"Yeah," Krillin said, "What gives?"

Trunks smiled, trying not to let his tears fall, but failed. "We brought you back to life here. This is another timeline with other yous. We'll send you all home in a minute."

His father, the real one, narrowed his eyes. "And who are you?"

"It is me, Father, Trunks."

Vegeta #2 looked and then shrugged. "Obviously my absence turned you into a weakling. The son of the Prince of All Saiyans shouldn't cry so easily."

Embarrassed, Trunks wiped at his eyes.

Impatient, Porunga grabbed their attention. "If you can't think of another wish, wish for nothing so I can rest."

Vegeta looked up and said, "Look here, oversized alligator, give us a minute to sort this out!"

His doppelganger turned his head away. "Maybe Kakarot's brat needs a moment to sort things out, but I'm ready. Just get on with it."

Vegeta studied the other man. He took in the smaller muscles and hollow eyes. He would even go so far as to say she_ was_ shorter. Inferior.

For Trunks' sake, Vegeta tried to reason. "Look here, your son is going into battle tomorrow."

"What do I care?"

Trunks stared at the ground.

Yeah, Vegeta thought, this maybe wasn't a good idea after all. His other wife and son were better off without him. Well, the damage was done; they'd have to settle for the wreckage he'd scavenged up for them.

"He's about twenty years old, you know," Vegeta said. Why was he still trying?

The mirror image looked at him, really looked at him. "You are _not_ me."

"Heh, I'm not. I'm more than the Prince of All Saiyans."

Vegeta #2 laughed icily. "What could be more than the Prince of All Saiyans?"

"If you have to ask, then that just proves who is the better man."

Trunks glanced from one to the other. He sighed. "Father, I don't care whether you approve of me or not. Can you at least go back and take care of Mother until I get back?"

The other Vegeta laughed again. "It's been what, twenty years? She's obviously made it this long. Why would I need to go take care of the old sagging –"

That was Vegeta's breaking point. He lunged forward and punched the other him hard in the jaw. He pounded on him with a fury. Goku came over and tried to pull him away, but Vegeta pushed him aside. If he'd thought about this logically, put himself in the other Vegeta's place (remembered), he'd have realized that it was all a ruse. That this Vegeta hid his true self behind bars and only unlocked it during rare safe conditions, private moments. He wore a mask so long that even himself confused it for the real thing.

But this was Bulma that he'd criticized. He'd inferred that age had made her less of a woman. He continued to pound upon himself. He realized that he'd turned into a Super Saiyan and didn't care. Even when Bulma lay in the hospital fighting for breath she was beautiful. No one degraded her- Not even _himself_.

It felt good to make the previous him bleed. Make him suffer, show him who was boss.

"No one, and I mean _no one_, insults my woman!" Vegeta roared. "If you make another comment about her lack of appealing I will kill you!"

"As if you could," the other him spat.

Vegeta turned into Super Saiyan 2 and then went even further into 3. "I can and I will if you don't listen to me. I brought you back because it is what the boy and woman think they want. If I find out you've made their life worse I will hunt you down and put you back in the ground and back to hell!"

The mention of hell made the other Vegeta back down and he wondered just what the man had been through. Hell hadn't been that bad the last time he'd been there. But, then again, there were different areas of the place, some worse than others.

Vegeta let go of the other man, now bruised and bleeding in the mouth. "Get this bastard away from me," he said, stepping away.

Trunks put a hand on his shoulder as he passed. He took a few seconds to meet his gaze and silently said _I'm sorry_.


	28. Chapter 27

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 27-

Bulma held Baby Trunks, who was wearing the hideous eared hat, to her chest as Vegeta and Future Trunks prepared to leave. Her cerulean eyes glistened. She smiled at them, but it was unsteady.

"You both look so handsome in the new armor I made," she said. "Now everyone will see you in style on TV."

Trunks adjusted the white and gold metal plate. The new design was lightweight, fashionable, but stronger than previously. It was the least she could do for them. "It's great, Mom, thanks."

"We've got to go. Don't you dare cry on me, woman," Vegeta said.

She raised her head. "I'm not going to cry."

Vegeta knew what she was thinking as she hugged Trunks with one arm and came over to squeeze his own hand. _Will I see you later? _He frowned. She should have more faith in them.

"You're being foolish," Vegeta said. "I'll be back with only a few scratches." He did not promise that Trunks would come home with minor damage, but vowed to himself that he would not see the demise of his son yet again. He'd see to that one way or another.

"I know," she whispered, trying to boost her hope.

He pulled back his hand and gave her a stern look. She'd watch the television, biting her lip with worry, clutch their newborn for support, and probably cry to her mother when he left. It was ridiculous, humanistic behavior. When left behind, Saiyan women prepared grand meals for the males when they returned. They never doubted their husband's ability in battle.

The baby began to wail and Bulma bounced him up and down. "Oh, Trunksie, don't, Daddy will come back soon," she cooed.

Adult Trunks turned away, embarrassed. Vegeta smirked. He crossed his arms and turned. "Let's go," he commanded.

Father and son soared high into the sky. Bulma waved wildly at her men. She hollered something that Vegeta thought was 'I'll have meatbuns waiting'. A proud smile formed on Vegeta's lips. So, she did have some Saiyan qualities, after all.

They flew to the designated area, which happened to be a span of grassy plane with a few plateaus in the background. Super Improved Cell had created a stone platform with spikey pillars on each corner to mimic a tournament ring. A black car that had the word SATAN in white lettering was parked to the side. So he came to make a fool of himself again, Vegeta thought, while fooling the entire world. He thought about fouling the geezer's plans but decided against it, remembering when citizens offered their energy at his request.

A blasted ZTV camera was pointed in his direction. A fiery man with black hair and wire-rim glasses rushed over and pushed a microphone in Vegeta's face. "Who are you and what are you doing here? And if you've just come to watch, back away from the ring before you get hurt."

Vegeta glared. "Quiet you. If you have any sense, you'll get that thing out of my face."

Trunks put a hand on Vegeta's shoulder. He gave the newsman an apologetic look. "Sorry, he doesn't like the press. Better to just back off."

The man scrambled back. He pointed the mic at Hercule Satan who spouted some nonsense about them being his fans. He gave an announcement to the viewers that hyped the tournament up, making it seem like an actual game instead of an important battle that decided whether more innocent people died. How ignorant these humans were, the whole lot of them, fed lies by the media, and they ate it like candy.

Streams of light soared down from the sky, like fireworks in the daytime. The party took root behind Vegeta. He liked that, as if they followed him (even Kakarot), his lackeys. Yes, Vegeta thought, this is the way it should be, I am the Prince and they should serve me.

Super Improved Cell smirked at the group. They sized him up, taking in his red skin and yellow face. His curved white horns lifted into the sky almost majestically. "Welcome, welcome, everyone," Super Improved Cell greeted cheerily, ignoring Hercule.

Mr. Satan puffed up his chest. "Hey, don't you know I am the champ around here!"

The TV reporter inched to the edge. "Are you all going to take part in the tournament today?"

Goku smiled politely. "Of course. I'll be going first."

"Wait a second, Kakarot," Vegeta protested.

"Oh, you wanted to go? That's not really fair, you know, since you are stronger and will beat him before we get a chance," Goku said.

It took a moment for Vegeta to let that soak in. Today was one of the best days ever. Goku was admitting his superiority. He hoped Bulma was recording this at home for him to savor again later.

Vegeta chuckled. "Actually, I was going to suggest we let the children have a go. See who taught their offspring the best?"

Trunks opened his mouth. "Father . . .?"

"What's that look for, not sure you can manage the task?"

"N-no. I can do it," Trunks said, trying to stand tall and assured.

"That's a great idea," Goku said. He turned to Gohan, whose hair was yellow, sustained in Super Saiyan form. "What do you say, son?"

Just then Mr. Satan pushed the TV announcer out of the way and exploded at the Z-fighters. "Hey you, I've had about enough of this. I've had enough of you stupid clowns and your stupid jokes. Clear out of here before I get angry!"

Krillin deadpanned. "Hey, don't blow a vein, you grease-ball."

Mr. Satan threw back a ridiculous speech about his supremacy. He crushed a rock over his head and did a few poses. The group sweat-dropped and were left speechless.

"I say we let the Neanderthal nerd-ball go first," Krillin commented.

"You think we should?" Goku said, unsure.

Laughing evilly, Vegeta said, "Why not? Let him prove his glory to the masses."

"But, Vegeta," Goku protested. "If he fights Cell, he's going to get killed."

"So? Won't be our fault."

"He's got a point," Krillin said sadly. "He just won't listen."

"I've got to try and get through to him," Goku said. He proceeded in telling Mr. Satan how dangerous it was.

It didn't work, as Vegeta knew it wouldn't. The TV newsman and Mr. Satan smiled and shrugged. The announcer yet again spoke into the camera about the audacity of Goku's speech. A few more losers arrived. The warriors watched as one by one the humans became out of commission. Satan and the news crew ran to hide. Cell then turned and demanded who would challenge him first.

Vegeta graciously said, "Yours can go first."

Goku nodded. "Okay, Gohan, are you ready?"

Gohan stood very still. "Uh, me? Are you sure, Dad?"

The green Namekian stood above them on a plateau. He protested by raising his fisted hands. "Goku, stop this! Think about what will happen if you allow your son to go into battle. What will happen if you maintain this course of action? If Gohan fights with Cell he's going to die!"

Goku continued to smile, not believing the words. "Listen, Piccolo, Gohan has a power deep within him that you or I couldn't begin to imagine."

Impatient, Vegeta said, "We'll give Gohan ten minutes. If he can't defeat Cell in that, it is Trunks turn for ten. We'll keep switching until he's beat."

"Okay, that sounds reasonable," Goku said.

The boy in question glanced down and had a concerned expression. He wasn't confident in the least. Goku approached him and gave him a pep-talk about how he believed that he could win.

Vegeta took that moment to turn to his own son. "Trunks?"

"Yes, father?"

"Gohan defeated Cell in my past, but I don't think he has it in him to beat this Super Improved version. But you, I've given you most of my secrets. Once the boy is unconscious or ten minutes is up, you enter and crush the bastard."

Trunks hardened his face, brave. "Right."

Gohan entered the ring, appearing much older than he was. His chest and arms were much more buff than any other of his peers. There was an aura of darkness that a boy shouldn't have to carry.

Super Improved Cell floated above Gohan and powered up brightly. "So, child, are you ready to meet your doom?"

Gohan yelled and threw back his arms. Yellow lights flashed and dust from the ground flew up. His hair lifted even higher into the air and a few rocks split with the intensity. The Z-fighters watched in amazement, except for Vegeta who was bored, having seen it all before. Tiny pebbles flung up from the dirt as Gohan's power became a whirlwind. The spectators covered their faces for protection. The storm settled and Gohan's ki burned around him like fire. His features were angry and determined.

"That's it! You can do it, son!" Goku called.

"It's not too late to pull him out, Goku!" Piccolo tried to reason.

"Relax, it's only ten minutes," Goku replied.

Cell touched down across from Gohan. He held up his right hand. "Well, you've got guts, kid. Not many children are willing to give their lives fighting their father's battles."

The battle began, Cell kicking wildly. Gohan met the actions by thrusting up his meaty arms. Gohan managed to toss Cell to the side, but the creature zoomed back at him. The two traveled into the air and they performed a few somersaults while grappling. The horned beast power-kicked the young apprentice downward. Gohan landed beautifully, legs spread.

"Good, son, keep it up!" Goku yelled.

"He's doing well," Trunks remarked.

Piccolo glanced over and then back to the fight. His face sweated.

Vegeta stared unblinking ahead but spoke to Trunks. "He's good enough to weaken the horned bull, but not enough to take him out. That'll be your job."

Super Improved Cell began to beat on Gohan like a doll in the air. He fell down into a pile of rocks. A few seconds later, Gohan pulled himself up and brushed away blood from his mouth.

"This is a bad idea," Piccolo muttered.

Super Improved Cell began shooting beams. Gohan dodged and bounced across the scene. He threw his own energy attacks but only managed to singe Cell's side. Gohan fell down and rolled around on the grass and dirt in an attempt to avoid the energy. Cell flung out a ball that hit Gohan in the chest and hurled him into a cliffside.

Piccolo went mad. "Gohan! Goku, you've killed your son! He's dead!"

Vegeta turned. "Shut up, Namek, he's not dead! He is done with his turn, though. Trunks, you're up."

Trunks stepped forward. He gave his father a look and then took his position for the fight, accumulating energy into Super Saiyan. Even if he doesn't win, he'll do better than Kakarot's brat, Vegeta thought.

The lavender-haired warrior, now yellow-haired, raised his head to Cell. "I'm your opponent now."

"Is that so?" Cell said. "So be it."

The Saiyan Prince noted that Trunks' moves were more graceful than Gohan's. He managed to get a few good kicks and swings in. Super Improved Cell mocked him with laughter. He wrapped his arms around Trunks' middle, bear-hugging him, and possibly crushing a few ribs. Trunks cried out, but struggled and broke free. Vegeta frowned. Come on, boy, you can do better than that, he thought.

Trunks zipped in the sky at a great rate. He punched and kicked at Cell. Then, unpredictably, he tugged his sword out of the red sheath on his back. He wielded the black and silver handled blade, expertly slashing. The sharp weapon scratched the red and yellow android's skin. Then, he chopped off one horn and then the other. Cell hollered with wide-eyes, grabbing the right stump of his horn.

That's it, Vegeta's brain cried. That's my Saiyan heir.

Cell began a barrage of attacks. He brought out rapid fire, which came as energy spheres from the hands. He shot them out one after another. Trunks danced around, avoiding them. One caught the side of his left upper-arm. The half-Saiyan slowed and gritted his teeth. Super Improved Cell let out a Special Beam Cannon, shooting it from side to side. Trunks rose in the sky and then zoomed to the side and then lowered again.

Trunks powered up to Super Saiyan 2. He shot continuous energy bullets. The energy emerged bluish in color. Before Cell could recover, Trunks attacked with energy much like a meteor shower. He flipped upside down and kicked out and beat Cell on the head a few times. The violence lowered Cell a bit. Trunks rushed down and prepared a full-blown final flash. The golden beam hit Cell and he smashed to the ground, bouncing.

"Yes! That's it, son!" Vegeta verbally yelled before he knew it.

Goku smiled at Vegeta. The prince looked away, embarrassed.

Trunks landed, just a tad out of breath. Cell picked himself up. "Not bad, boy," Cell said.

"I learned from the best," Trunks said.

In the distance, a small form stirred. A yellow-haired boy came forward, brushing debris from his yellow locks and off his outfit. His power level spiked to something amazing. He came into the line of fire, only a few scratches on his body.

"Gohan!" Piccolo called.

"Ten minutes are up, Trunks," Gohan said. "Cell, you will now fight me again."

Cell sneered. "These rules were never passed by me." Super Improved Cell met Vegeta's eyes across the battlefield. "I make my own rules."

Everything happened fast and all at once. The same facial expression on Cell emerged from Vegeta's first experience, that look of defiance. He shifted away from Gohan and towards Trunks, who had backed down, admitting that his turn was over for now. He stood, unprepared, not ready for a blow. Cell gathered energy in his hands. Vegeta saw only the beginning of the Full Power Death Beam before he pitched forward, fatherly instinct taking over.

In that second, images raced through Vegeta's mind. His son hit through the chest, power ripping through his armor, slicing his heart. Trunks' shocked expression, mouth agape before he landed, coughing blood, gasping. That would not happen again! He would not let it!

Racing, he made it, tossing his son aside to take on the grand beam himself. The impact slammed into his middle, tearing through the armor Bulma had worked so hard on. He looked down at the beam as it retracted, as if pulled back into Cell. His body slumped forward and he choked, sputtered, and spit blood.

Vegeta coughed and laughed. "I create my own rules t-too, C-Cell."

The mighty Prince of all Saiyans slammed face-down into the ground. There were cries and gasps. He heard Gohan scream out in a call for war.

"Father! No!"

Hands flipped him over and then dragged him back. He blinked but he couldn't see anything but fuzz. He was sure it was Trunks. Good. He'd done it, he'd saved his son. The agony in his stomach flared but Vegeta could handle it. He'd been through it all with Frieza. No problem.

"Tru-nks?"

"I'm here, father. Don't talk."

"Vegeta, hang in there, buddy!" Goku.

"A senzu bean! Give me a senzu bean!"

There was a span of silence.

"I swear I had one," Goku said, a little panicked. "Maybe it slipped out of my pocket on the way here."

"Oh man, he doesn't look good, guys," Krillin commented.

The pain really didn't hurt that much anymore. Vegeta gave up on trying to focus his eyes and closed them. A floating feeling came over him, which was almost like when he transcended awareness during meditation.

"Dad!" The boy was crying.

"What are we going to do?" Krillin questioned. "The dragon balls can't bring back someone a second time."

"Let's think positive," Goku said.

Vegeta didn't like all the noise and attention. The outer world seemed to slam at him and he wanted to block it out.

"He's bleeding a lot. Should we apply pressure?"

"Does anyone even know first aid here?"

"We've got to do something."

The voices blurred together.

_Tell Bulma I love her_. Maybe he said it outloud, maybe he didn't. Even if he did, and they all heard, he didn't care. The freedom of not caring carried him away into oblivion.

AN- Maybe I am evil, but it is so fun. Just wait for what is in store coming up. *laughs crazily*


	29. Chapter 28

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 28-

Goku hated no one, but when Vegeta first arrived, determined to gather the dragonballs for selfish reasons and crush anyone in his way, Goku would have said he didn't like him. But he wanted to (frankly, Goku wanted a reason to like everyone). He put faith in him; let him go, because he'd seen what letting Piccolo escape achieved: a true friend, a changed man, and ally. Gazing down at the battered fellow-Saiyan, Goku presently acknowledged all of these qualities. He'd made the right decision.

It hurt to think that with all the effort Vegeta put in, it might go to waste. He'd come from the future to have a second chance and help them out. What does he get? A good fatal thrashing. Optimistically (and Goku was always optimistic), the guy would go to heaven if worst came to worst.

All eyes were on Vegeta, concerned, even Yamcha. As much as Vegeta might protest, he had friends.

"Let's think positive," Goku told them.

The wound was large and blood escaped massively into the ground around him. The prince winced, face contorted in pain. His energy waned like during his previous death on Namek, but this time he didn't even have the strength to cry and tell a sad story about Frieza.

"He's bleeding a lot. Should we apply pressure?" Yamcha said, unsure.

Trunks knelt beside Vegeta and pressed his hands against the hole in his father's stomach. All the energy seemed to have drained out of him, and he was violet-haired again. He remained silent, in another world, tears down his face. Goku could tell the boy feared it was too late.

"Does anyone even know first aid here?" Krillin asked.

"We've got to do something," Tien said.

In the background, Gohan continued to battle Super Improved Cell. Sounds of blasts and yells of determination came from the two. Goku glanced over and was pleased to see that his son had the upper-hand. Then, his eyes turned to the rocky ground in search of the supposedly fallen senzu bean. Nothing was found except a small green lizard and a few ants.

Goku smiled and held out his hands. "Look, guys, just relax. Everything is going to be fine. I'll just use instant transmission to take him to the nearest hospital."

Simple. Goku simplified everything because things were much more approachable that way.

"Well, if that's your plan, I suggest you follow through," Piccolo said. "Then return and back up your son."

Blinking, Goku said, "What, he's fine. You worry too much Piccolo." Was he the only one who trusted in Gohan's power? Believing paid off, and he'd always believe that.

The green Namekian glowered, crossing his arms.

It suddenly became quiet, the sounds of fighting distant. A breeze passed over them, heightening the calm. No one breathed except for Goku. Vegeta was still. . . too still.

"Guys . . .?" Krillin voiced. "I don't mean to be a downer but . . .?"

Tien gave the bald man a harsh look with all three eyes. Yamcha hung his head.

"We really need to learn not to talk so much," Yamcha commented forlornly. In Goku's head, the scarred man cared about Vegeta's fate, but to any of the others they would have said he was only worried about Bulma's reaction (which probably was more accurate).

Trunks' shoulders shook. Desperate, he said harshly," I did not come from the future so you could die _again_! My father is the Prince of all Saiyans! A little beam can't kill him!"

Goku's chest hurt along with Trunks. In Goku-land everything was sunshine and rainbows one way or another. He wasn't about to let it rain. He tried to smile but failed. He just couldn't do it, but he managed to speak. "Trunks, don't give up yet."

Incredulous, Piccolo's wide eyes met him. "Goku, you can't honestly say that. He's dead, look at him."

Scratching his head, Goku said, "Well, he isn't breathing but. . ." Vegeta's ki still lingered, but was fading fast.

"CPR!" Trunks exclaimed.

Krillin furrowed his brow. "Will that work?"

"CPR?" Goku repeated. He tried to remember what that stood for. He was sure he'd heard it somewhere.

In a commanding way, Trunks took charge, channeling his mother. He cast an arm out. "Everyone stand back. Except you, Goku. I need you to do that thing Father did when my mother was about to miscarry."

"Oh, right!"

Yet again, Goku was amazed at the Briefs' brain capabilities. Why hadn't he thought of that? It seemed so obvious now. Goku suspected Trunks learned this CPR thing from Bulma. Vegeta was pretty smart too, at least on the battlefield. They just seemed to know everything and were so quick in their thinking. Even Gohan, who studied nonstop, didn't know _everything_ and had to take his time. Well, it was a good thing they had the Brief family as their friends to come up with ideas.

Goku got down on his knees. He watched the young man make sure Vegeta lay flat. Trunks placed the heel of his hand on the center of the breastbone and then put his other hand over the first. His body aligned over his hands, arms somewhat rigid. Trunks began to compress. After thirty, Trunks placed his right hand on Vegeta's forehead and two fingers under his chin to open the airway. So this was CPR? Goku thought. It was something he'd seen on TV once. Trunks repeated the chest compressions.

"Shouldn't he do rescue breaths?" Krillin murmured.

"He knows what he's doing more than we do," Tien replied.

"Come on, Dad," Trunks urged.

Goku powered up. His palms hovered over the wound and gently he directed his ki out towards it. His hands warmed and a soft glow spread. He pushed slowly, letting the energy wrap around the torn flesh.

"Would it help if we contributed ki?" Krillin offered.

"Nah, we don't want him to explode," Yamcha commented. Normally, that would have been a joke.

Precious time ticked by. Trunks panted, his face red. His eyes were wild and fierce. "Come on!"

"Hey, Trunks, would it help if I directed the energy to his heart instead?" Goku asked. He didn't know where the idea came from, but it seemed logical.

Ready to try anything, Trunks agreed. Goku shifted positions to Vegeta's upper chest. Trunks continued to press down and Goku trickled ki energy to the other Saiyan's muscle, through Trunks' hands. The body jerked and Vegeta's mouth gasped. Goku jumped back.

"All right! Man, I was worried there!" Krillin shouted.

"Father! Dad!" Trunks said, tearing up again.

Goku grinned. "K, everyone, I'll see you in a few minutes. Gotta get this champ fixed up. See ya." He placed his index and middle finger to where his third-eye was located, his other hand touching Vegeta's shoulder.

In a flash, the two men were transported to a busy hospital lobby floor. The shiny surface grew dirty from grime and blood. A blonde nurse shrieked and dropped her tray of medicine cups. Her hands touched the sides of her face in horror.

Goku lifted a hand in greeting. "Hello, my friend here needs assistance."

He stayed long enough to make sure Vegeta was placed somewhere safe. He spotted a few needles and decided it was time to leave. He thanked Dende it was Vegeta in this scary hospital and not him. He slipped into the bathroom hall and used instant transmission to pop into the Capsule Corporation living quarters.

The first thing he noticed was the baking scent of meat and dough. His stomach made a gurgle as he followed the scent. Bulma stood near the counter, cleaning up cooking ingredients. Baby Trunks slept in a carrier on the kitchen table. Bulma's head rose.

"Goku, is it over already? I have meat buns in the oven. You can stay for dinner if you want. They should be ready in twenty minutes. Just in time for Vegeta to- What?"

He silently told his stomach to shut-up for once. He focused on his best friend and touched the back of his head. "Well, you see, Vegeta, he. . ."

The egg carton slipped from Bulma's grasp and made a thump on the linoleum. The look on her face showed that she feared the worst. Her right hand fisted to her heart. He spotted the glint of her wedding band on her other hand.

"Bulma, it's okay," he quickly said. "He's alive. I took him to the hospital."

The blue-haired woman took in a long breath but her eyes were still worried. He decided he wouldn't tell her how close she'd been to losing her husband. Was this the pain he'd put Chi-Chi through? A flash of guilt ran through him. Death was no big deal to him, but he must have really caused her grief.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "Oh, he jumped in front of Trunks to save him."

A wobbly smile appeared on her face and then she nodded in acceptance. She stepped around the island and took up her son in his carrier. She demanded for Goku to stay put while she deposited the baby over to his grandmother in the garden. The wafting oven scent was torture. He snatched up a banana from the fruit bowl and peeled it.

Bulma scolded him for wasting time eating a banana on her way back, hands on her hips. He shoved the last half of the banana into his mouth and barely chewed. She stomped to his side.

"Okay, let's go," she said.

* * *

It was much like awakening after the gravity chamber explosion, and his emergence into this timeline. Bulma, his woman and wife, lay with her head down on the hospital table, asleep. He was relieved to see her appear so peaceful. He'd had a disturbing dream in which she'd almost fallen into a black abyss, lost forever to him. He managed to save her at the last moment. _I'm here when it matters_, he'd told her. _She's always there_, was the current silent response in his head. He took in a breath. The wound ached a bit, but wasn't too bad. Probably meds in conjunction with his superior Saiyan healing.

He watched her for a long time before reaching out and touching her hair. He stroked the soft silky blue strands, getting drowsy again, but that was when she stirred.

Bulma sat up straight. "Vegeta," she said. She leaned forward and touched his face. "Oh, Vegeta." Wetness landed on his nose.

"I told you not to cry on me, woman." His voice sounded raspy and dry.

She met his eyes. "Tough." She pressed her lips gently on his. He was sorry his were so chapped compared to her soft ones but she didn't seem to mind. Then, she took care to be gentle, hugging him with one arm, burying her face in his shoulder.

Vegeta let her cry. A lot of tears for just him. Unless . . .

"Cell?" he questioned.

She lifted and brushed her eyes. "Dead. Trunks and Gohan defeated him. Trunks went mad after you left the fight. He pretty much took over, pushing Gohan into the sidekick role."

He glanced up at the white ceiling. "That's our boy." He would have smirked but he knew there was more. "What about the others?"

She averted her gaze. "Goku is dead," she whispered.

"No, Kakarot. . ."

They took a few moments to let it sink in. The vital machine beeped and displayed fluctuating digits that Vegeta could only guess what they meant. They meant he was alive. But Kakarot was not. His only real friend. The idiot. He probably sacrificed himself to prevent Cell from destroying the Earth by transporting them to King Kai's planet just like before.

The doctor came in to check up on Vegeta. He examined him and scribbled a few things on his clipboard. The doctor was pleased with his "superhuman" progress. He fetched a nurse to bring in a cup of water. Vegeta downed the water with help, his throat feeling much better afterward.

"The others are gathering the dragonballs," Bulma said when they were alone again.

Vegeta began to get up, wincing in pain. Bulma pushed him back down.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

He grabbed both her hands. "I need to go. Bulma, that third-class idiot isn't going to come back. He's going to choose to stay in the otherworld."

She stilled in shock and betrayal. "Why?"

"He thinks he's some sort of self-important magnet for evil. All trouble happens because he exists on Earth. Rubbish if you ask me, he isn't the center of the universe," Vegeta grumbled.

Bulma simply seemed annoyed at Goku. Vegeta reminded himself yet again why he cared so much. Goten was Trunks' best friend and deserved a father because otherwise Trunks would feel sorry for him. He still needed to beat the Saiyan yet again with their advanced strength. It had nothing to do with being friends or anything . . . Of course not.

"He's going to be self-absorbed and abandon his family again," Vegeta said darkly. "Skip out on the newest Son addition that he doesn't even know exists. So, you see, I need to go and pound some sense into him."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Chi-Chi's pregnant?"

"His woman probably doesn't even know it yet," Vegeta said. He started to get up again.

Bulma pushed him down, even though she was no match for him at all, even given his state. "I don't think so! You are not leaving until the doctors release you. I'll snap sense into Goku myself."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "If it were anyone else I'd doubt. But you have the mouth to shake the earth. It even rivals his harpy of a wife, so I believe you can scare Kakarot into returning."

She winked at him as she stood up. "You wouldn't like me any other way." She bent to whisper in his ear. "I'm all patched up myself. So when you get yourself whole we can have some fun."

Vegeta licked his lips and eyed her tight alluring ass as she strolled sexily out. He plopped his head back on the pillow and hoped he would have a rapid and smooth recovery.

AN- When I was writing the dramatic Vegeta almost dying scene it seemed too light-hearted. But, that was Goku's fault. I wanted to convey how positive and hopeful he is. BTW, medics now says that CPR rescue breaths do not add to the effectiveness of it (or so I read on the Internet), so that is why Trunks did not do them.

Fun news. I get to meet Sean Schemmel, the voice of Goku, at Matsuricon. Pretty excited. I already met Chris Sabat, voice of Vegeta (who is awesome btw).


	30. Chapter 29

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- First off, **please take the poll on my page**! It has to do with this story and will affect it. Also, any name suggestions are welcome too (you'll get it after you look at the poll). Second, I just got done planning more of this and Reconstruction, and let me say, things are developing into something more complicated and involved than I anticipated. But, I think it will be highly fun. Both stories are going to entwine way more than I wanted, but I hope you guys like it. If you want a hint, I'll just say more time travel might be involved and . . . don't forget that Hedoro still exists. This story just might be pretty long.

Chapter 29-

Flashes of gold light met Bulma on her entry to the Lookout. She quickly parked the hovercar and ran across the stone tiled floor to where the others stood, shielding her eyes. When she slowed, her heart raced violently from excitement. She waved frantically with two arms as she neared.

"Hey, guys!" Bulma shouted, a little out of breath.

"Bulma," Yamcha said.

Gohan stood, now healed, but his clothes were dirty and tattered, and his hair was wildly out of place. Bulma took a quick look at Trunks who appeared mostly unharmed, standing more firmly in place than Gohan, and in better shape. The expression on his face was dark, almost as gloomy as his father's could be at times. Even though Vegeta was mending, Trunks obviously wasn't over the close call with Super Improved Cell.

The long overbearing dragon, Shenron, hovered overhead. He gazed down at them with blood-red eyes, green hair and the whiskers on the side of his face blowing in the breeze. He bent his head to speak. "Choose your words carefully as you speak. I will make two of your wishes true."

Gohan gazed up at the dragon with amazement. "Oh wow, Dende made it so the dragon will grant us two wishes."

Krillin glanced over at Bulma. "I'm glad to see you, but you look like you're here on a mission."

"Sure am," Bulma said. She nodded at Shenron. "We've got to make sure Goku comes back to life. Vegeta says he tries to get out of it with some sort of silly nonsense about him being a target for trouble. The stubburn goof."

Beside them, Gohan hung his head, his recent awe of the dragon gone and replaced by sorrow. Bulma touched his arm. "Don't worry, kid, we'll talk your dad into returning. That's why I came," she said.

He nodded but still seemed troubled and dejected. Of course, Bulma thought with understanding. He probably thinks his father turned his back on their family. Which he did, she thought, a little miffed herself.

"Bulma, should we wish back all the people Cell killed first?" Yamcha questioned.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sounds good," she agreed.

Yamcha stood in his orange gi, hands at his side in determined fists. His firm face looked upwards. "Shenron, please revive all the people on Earth who were killed by Cell."

The dragon spoke immediately, not having to consider it, in a booming voice. "Your wish shall be granted." His red eyes flashed.

"Phew," Krillin said, wiping his forehead with his right hand. "I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"Well said," Tien agreed.

Piccolo stepped forward with a dark expression. "Goku was not included in the wish. Dende's dragon balls stem from the original model and so their energies are linked."

"We are going to have to wish to be transported to Namek," Bulma said.

"It is a shame Goku had to die twice," Tien said sadly.

Shenron grew impatient. He watched them with stern eyes. "What is your second wish? I am waiting for it."

Yamcha frowned. "You think we have to use the Namekian balls?" He shouted up at Shenron. "Can't you use the last wish to revive Goku? All of us really want him back."

"It does not matter how much you want him back. It is above my power," Shenron snapped.

Waving a dismissive hand, Bulma said, "Look, Yamcha, we'll just have to go to Namek. It'll be a snap. After Goku arrives, we can get him to use instant transmission to transport us back."

"It does sound plausible. Porunga was the original dragon, so his power is stronger," Piccolo said.

All of a sudden, they were interrupted by a voice from the sky. Everybody's head flew up. Yamcha spun around as if searching for the source.

"Hey, guys, don't I get a say in this?" Goku asked immaterially.

Bulma put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Actually, no, you don't!"

"Wha-? Bulma, come on. . . "

Krillin's eyes roamed the sky. "Is that really you, Goku?"

"Yep, hey everybody, it's me. King Kai's letting me talk to you from the Otherworld, so listen up."

Bulma shot a finger above her head. "No, Goku, _you_ listen up!"

That made Goku hesitate. He sputtered. "B-Bulma? Aren't you interested in what I have to say?"

She crossed her arms. "Not really. Vegeta already filled me in on how you plan to skip out on us. Something about you thinking you bring danger to Earth. I think it is a bunch of bul-" She glanced Gohan's way and changed her words. "A bunch of silly boloney. It was actually Vegeta who brought about Super Improved Cell and not you."

"She has a point," muttered Yamcha.

"It isn't just Super Improved Cell. I've been thinking lately and I realize that most of the guys who attack are after me. Think about it, Frieza, Radditz, the Androids. . . Well, I think it would be better for the Earth if I didn't come back this time. King Kai agrees with me," Goku said.

"Sort of," King Kai added, a little unconvinced.

"As a Saiyan baby I was sent to Earth to destroy it and in a way I've been fulfilling that mission all along. So, yeah, I'm going to stay here now. I really don't mind. King Kai says I can get special treatment because I saved the Earth and all. I'll be able to keep my body and-"

The group on Earth appeared completely disappointed. The energy had drained from Krillin and his mouth hung open, unable to comprehend the words. Piccolo shook his head and smiled softly, muttering something about "adventure" but his voice wasn't upbeat. Gohan's eyes were large with shock and horror. Trunks looked just as stunned. Yamcha and Tien gave each other exchanges of surprise. Only Bulma wasn't going to blindly accept her best friend's decision. No, she was on Vegeta's side.

"Goku!"

"There are new people to meet. They have food from around the world, and even the galaxy. I'll be able to train up here too, and even compete in tournaments. It'll be fun," he continued.

"Goku!" Bulma shouted at the top of her lungs.

There was a span of silence. She took in a breath and ran a hand through her short blue hair.

"You have to come back," Bulma told him. "What about Gohan and Chi-Chi? And what about Buu? Remember him? Vegeta said there is another villain on his way. We need you. Earth needs you."

"Gohan is so strong now that I have nothing left to teach him. He has turned into such a strong and responsible boy. He can look after Chi-Chi for me, and even help save the Earth. Besides, Vegeta is stronger than I am now. If anything happens, he can take care of it. I have faith in him."

How could he possibly say something like that? Bulma couldn't believe it. Sure, Future Trunks was strong, and her baby Trunks would be strong as well; but if she could fight for him, if she was able, or even could help, she would, only to relieve some of the pressure off his shoulders. She'd never leave her family given the chance to come back. Never. They needed her and she needed them. She loved them. Goku . . . She didn't understand. It sounded like he simply wanted to have this fun adventure Piccolo murmured about.

Bulma growled. It wasn't as lethal as Vegeta's growls, but still, it made an impact. "Chi-Chi is pregnant, Goku. You are going to have another son," she spat.

Everyone froze. Gohan twirled his head toward her and gaped.

"What? Really?" Goku said with excitement. "That's great!"

"It would be great, if you were coming back that is," Bulma said harshly.

"Well. . ." She imagined him scratching his head in contemplation.

This is it, Bulma thought. I have to convince him and I only get one shot. Now or never. Not for me, but for Chi-Chi and their baby. Poor guy growing up without a daddy. She thought about future Bulma and shuddered. The thought was so terribly sad, raising a child alone.

"Goku, think about it. Chi-Chi will have to bring up a baby all alone. She will be lonely and sad. This new little boy will never know his father." Bulma looked over at Trunks. "Tell him. Tell him how horrible it is to not have a father. Tell him how sad I was when Vegeta died."

Her adult son from the future sprung into life, coming out of his daze. Trunks cleared his throat. "Mom is right, Goku. You don't know what it is like to live without your father. You had your grandfather to take care of you, and you never knew your parents, but this is different. Chi-Chi will tell your son stories. She'll talk about how caring and great you were, and probably shed tears. Then, Gohan will reveal this day and the guy will wonder why you turned your back on him. Why you didn't love them enough. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," Bulma yelled. "And, Trunks went to all the trouble to bring you the antidote for the heart virus too. Chi-Chi sat by your bedside, administering it, praying you would be all right. You're just going to stay dead after all that?" She stomped her foot. "You are a moron!"

Laughter came from above, echoing around them. "All right, all right. I'll return. Wish for me to come back in a year from now," Goku said.

Bulma blinked. "A year?" she squeaked.

"What is he concocting now?" Tien mumbled.

Yamcha shook his head. "The guy sure is unpredictable."

"No," Bulma whispered. "He isn't unpredictable, just unreliable."

"Yeah," Goku said. "I think I'll stick around to train up here for a while. You can tell Vegeta we can have a rematch when I come home. Gohan, take care of your mother until I'm back. Make sure she eats well and rests. I'll be there to say hello to the little guy before you know it. Well, until then, bye guys."

And then Goku was gone for the time being. Bulma groaned. Well, it could have been worse.

Krillin glanced at all of them. Gohan stared at his feet, deep in thought. Piccolo chuckled, probably figuring that Goku would be Goku.

Shenron demanded for their second wish, and there was debate about what to do. No one had a good idea, and so Yamcha made a joke about money, which made Bulma shoot him a glare. The memory of being so childish to want to wish for a boyfriend entered her mind and she thought about how immature it'd been, not to mention completely for personal gain. Finally, they all agreed to save the last wish, which would restore the dragon balls sooner. The dragon was appreciative to be dismissed, and disappeared from sight.

The friends stood together, not really knowing what to do next, and still coming to terms with Goku's decision.

"Did it slip his mind that babies take 9 months to be born and not 12?" Krillin said.

Bulma crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Who's going to break the news to Chi-Chi?" Krillin asked. When all eyes but Gohan's pointed at him, he took a step backwards. "No, not me! Why is it always me?"

"I'll do it," Gohan said, raising his head. A new strength and determination came over him and he suddenly appeared older than he was. "I'll be the one to tell her."

Yamcha nodded at the pre-teen with pride. Piccolo came over and patted the kid on the head. Bulma walked over to add her input.

"Well, at least he's coming back this time. Vegeta was really concerned about it, and I'm thinking there is a story we don't know. I'm sorry he's taking a leave of absence, though," she said with empathy.

Gohan shrugged. When he glanced over his eyes weren't as depressed. "That's the way Dad is. When it comes to training or food, he'd pass up on anything else. We love him anyway despite that, though."

If anything, this outing made Bulma realize how privileged she was to have Vegeta, her future Vegeta. She knew he enjoyed training and food, maybe as much as Goku, but Trunks and she came first. Maybe that meant his love for them surpassed Goku's love for his family? Not that she'd say that out loud. She had confidence that Vegeta wouldn't leave them, not even for a year, if he had a chance to train and eat at home with the family. Not _this_ Vegeta anyway. She smiled and came to the decision to visit her husband in the hospital again, revel in her good-fortune, and appreciate the fact that he still lived. She'd lay her head against his chest for a while and then evilly tease him about missing out on "things" being cooped up in bed.

Yes, life was good.

AN- I planned for Trunks' departure to be included in this chapter, but it ended up being so long, so nope, you're going to have to wait. Sorry.


	31. Chapter 30

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- Thanks, everyone who took my poll. I will leave it open until I begin the chapter where I will use the result. Anyone have any ideas for names? Should they be named after underwear or vegetables? Or, something completely different?

Chapter 30-

Today was the day. Trunks awoke at an early hour and stepped outside to breathe in the fresh cool air. He stared up at the clear blue sky, taking in the peaceful emotion that ran through him. A tiny Jack Russell terrier barked from down the street. He stepped into the grass and felt the dewed green blades between his toes. A young boy on a tricycle rode by on the sidewalk, giggled, and waved at him. Life was good here. It was freeing. Today was the day-the last day.

He could stay longer, he knew, but the longer he did, the harder it'd be. He took a quick sweep yet again at the serene surroundings. Trunks tried to hope that soon his own world might take on the atmosphere of this tranquility. He turned, determined, and more ready now to return. He had to go home and work hard to restore his timeline to a better place, similar to this one.

When he entered the domed home again, all activity greeted him. Loud crying hit his ears, and there was much commotion in the direction of the kitchen.

"Trunks, no!" Bulma shouted in alarm.

At first, Trunks thought his mother was talking to him, but then realized she was chastising the baby. The miniature him cried in protest, squirming in her arms. Trunks stood near the wall and took it in, making out that baby Trunks had knocked an egg off the counter. His father sat slumped in a chair at the table, drumming his fingers across the tabletop. Vegeta had been bored to death ever since arriving home from the hospital. Bulma refused to let him train and told him that she was building a new version of the GR indoors. This perked him up and he began to tell her about advancements she should include, most likely ones from his future timeline. Bulma was amazed at all the settings and robotic add-ons she hadn't even thought of.

"You know," Bulma said, "you could help. I have the automatons to help but this isn't easy holding a baby in one arm. Not to mention him screeching in my right ear."

"I don't see why you couldn't just let your mother make breakfast as usual?" Vegeta shot back.

Bulma managed to shush baby Trunks into only a soft sniffle. She pouted. "Because I'm his mother, that's why. I thought I could give Future Trunks one home-cooked meal made by me."

"Ha, do you even know what you are doing?" Vegeta asked.

"I- Um, well, I've watched Mom. . ."

"Hn," mumbled Vegeta with an eye-roll. "It better be edible. I'm not going all day without a proper Saiyan breakfast."

"You'd get your proper Saiyan grub if you'd take your son like a proper father should!"

They glared at each other from across the room. Vegeta crossed his arms and huffed. Then, he turned toward his older son, who stood, still undetected by Bulma. Vegeta's eyes were unreadable as he sized up Trunks.

Trunks came forward. "Good morning," he greeted.

Bulma flinched. She turned, her mouth open. "Oh, hi. I meant for this to be a surprise."

"Thanks, Mom, I really appreciate it. Why don't I take . . . um, me, for awhile?" Trunks bent slightly to look at baby Trunks in her hold. Blue eyes met blue. It was unnerving and weird, like having a reflection step out of the mirror, alive and separate.

She smiled and handed the baby over. "Gee thanks, that'd help. You're so sweet, unlike _some_ grumpy men I know." Her eyes again traveled over to her husband in irritation.

Vegeta scowled. He scooted the chair back and stood. "I'm going out back to meditate," he declared.

"Yes, you do that," Bulma said. "Go get enlightened."

He ignored her comment, exiting the room.

Bulma sighed and took a piece of paper towel to wipe up the egg yolk. "Sorry, Trunks. I wanted your last day here to be enjoyable, not full of moody lazy fathers. I didn't want to make you babysit either."

Trunks shrugged. "It's fine. You really don't have to make this day special. My experience here has been more than I could have hoped for. You've been . . . well, my Mom. And, Dad has been . . . I don't know if there are words. Let's just say he's been different than I expected."

He was answered by a nod. She tossed the soaked paper towel into the trash and smiled. She reached out and squeezed his free hand. Bulma began to cook again.

Deciding to give her space to prepare, Trunks carried the other Trunks into the guest room he'd been staying in. There was nothing to pack except his precious sword and a few capsules. The room was simple and did not show any personality. He glanced down at the baby with a clump of lavender hair. This Trunks would have a chance to live here, fill his room with toys and games. He, on the other hand, went home to a small and humble dwelling devoid of such extravagant pleasures. Not that he was jealous, just accepted what he missed out on.

He sprawled out on top of the made bed, placing the child on his chest. The kid snuggled into his black shirt and seemed to fall asleep. It was comforting. For the first time, Trunks considered having his own children. It hadn't been an option, but now he was confident that he could eradicate the androids. Maybe, if there were enough females left, he could build a family of his own. Give a son or daughter something he'd been deprived of.

Trunks touched the baby's head. "I hope you know how privileged you are, kid. Don't get so spoiled to think your life is dull, or that your parents fight too much. Or, that your father expects too much out of you. Or, that Mom nags you too much to take out the trash. Or, that too many girls flirt and won't leave you alone. Or, that you have friends that come over too often."

A sense of bitter-sweetness came. The trip to the past had been a success. The androids were no longer a problem, Cell was no more, he'd gotten to know his father, Goku would come back, and everyone would end up happy. Baby Trunks made a cute little exhale in his peaceful slumber. He willed this infant to appreciate these things, take the opportunities he never received, and understand what he helped give him.

Lying there, Trunks watched the little him and contemplated both their lives. He decided this boy most likely wouldn't understand how good he had it. This, he accepted. He wondered what kind of home life he would return to. How would his own father treat him? He remembered the brief encounter on Namek and shuddered. It was like his father hadn't been grateful for coming back to life at all. He'd been full of selfishness and spite. Would his father even be there when he arrived? Could he have caused his mother more pain?

"Trunks, the food is done!" Bulma shouted.

He gently lifted baby Trunks and took him into the nursery. He laid the baby down into his crib. "Sleep well, little man."

The meal was a feast. Bulma's mother had forced herself in on the preparation, and so nothing was burnt or over-seasoned. There was a plate of omelets, bowls of rice and ramen, hunks of sausage and ham, fruit, yogurt, and donuts. Bulma slapped Vegeta's arm when he reached out with chopsticks to fill his plate with meat. She glared and motioned to Trunks. Apparently he got special treatment today and first dibs.

The food was excellent and Trunks praised his mother and grandmother (but mostly Bulma). When they were done eating, Bulma went upstairs to breastfeed baby Trunks. Mrs. Brief programmed the robots to collect the dirty dishes. Vegeta met Trunks on the outskirts of the kitchen.

"I'd like to meet with you in private," Vegeta said.

"Okay," Trunks said. He was a little nervous. Time with his father was precious in the hyperbolic time chamber, but this was their last get-together and emotions were high on his end. He prayed he wouldn't cry like a weakling.

"Is now a good time?"

"Sure."

"Okay, then follow me."

Vegeta led them to a secluded area near a few trees and a stream. It would be a perfect spot to fish or take a nap.

"Well, boy, this is our last time to spar," Vegeta said.

Trunks furrowed his brow. "You just got out of the hospital. If Mom . . ."

"What that woman doesn't know won't hurt her. Now, show me what I've taught you!"

So, they powered up and fought. Trunks followed his father's lead. It was a soft spar, nothing extravagant or violent, and Trunks knew Vegeta planned it that way because of the location. There were too many trees to properly go hard-core. They exchanged a few energy blasts, but it was mostly punches, kicks, and parries.

After a few hours, the two stepped back from each other, not even winded. Trunks noticed Vegeta avoided his eyes. He wondered if this was difficult for his father, especially given that he'd seen him grow up once, and probably missed his adult company.

"Well, if there's anything left to say, you better say it, boy," Vegeta said.

That made Trunks smile. Honestly, he really had nothing left to say.

"What are you grinning like an idiot about?" Vegeta snapped.

Trunks sobered. "Nothing, sir."

"Don't go grinning around your other father," Vegeta advised.

There was a span of silence. "Well, if there is nothing to say . . .," Vegeta eventually said.

Trunks expected that to be that. Instead, Vegeta commanded Trunks to come over. He obeyed, meeting his father up-close.

"Now, don't you dare speak a word of this to anyone."

Trunks stared.

"Do you hear me, brat!"

Trunks nodded.

Then, out of nowhere, unprepared, his father hugged him with one arm. It wasn't like the bear-hugs his mother gave. Hers were warm and fuzzy, and full of words and emotion. This was awkward and stiff, inexperienced, but real and true just the same. Trunks didn't let his father see the lone tear that slipped down his cheek. When they separated, Trunks had the hint of a smile. That embrace meant more than any last words could have.

Back at Capsule Corp, the whole gang, except Vegeta, gathered to see Trunks off. Even Eighteen was there, who stood behind the others nervously with Krillin. Mrs. Brief made a basket of muffins to take back with him. Bulma handed over a duplicated android remote in order to deactivate the duo. She also passed over a capsule.

"I thought you could use a space ship," Bulma said. "Since your time doesn't have any Earth dragon balls, you might need to make a trip to Namek."

The idea was appealing. Trunks could wish for Earth to be restored and the people to come back to life. He shared a tight and loving embrace with his mother. She teared up a little when it was over.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you," she said. "So handsome and brave."

Trunks looked away, embarrassed.

Suddenly, Bulma glanced around and frowned. "Where is Vegeta?"

"I haven't seen him since breakfast, dear," Mrs. Brief said cheerily.

Bulma narrowed her eyes. "How inconsiderate to not come say goodbye to his son. Trunks, wait right there, I'll go find him and drag him out. I can't believe him sometimes!"

He touched her arm. "Wait, Mom, it's okay. Dad already bid me farewell."

Her eyes widened. "He told you goodbye?"

Trunks gave her a look of approval. "He did more than that," he said mysteriously.

She smiled and shook her head. "Ah, a secret. All right, I'll let your father off the hook if he had a private moment."

Trunks pressed down on the plunger of the capsule that held the time machine. A puff of smoke blew and the time machine stood in the backyard. Trunks climbed in. He settled into the pilot's seat and set the basket of blueberry muffins to the side. He punched in the coordinates, ready to launch.

Bulma took baby Trunks from his grandmother. She propped him up and waved a chubby baby hand at him. "Say bye-bye to Big Trunks."

"Bye, everyone! I'll. . ." He was about to promise to come visit but stopped himself. He realized that he had his own friends and father waiting. Maybe it was best for this to be a one-time stay. There was a life that needed his full attention at home. It was broken and in need of help, and he'd fight to reconstruct the fallen pieces with everything he had. "I'll miss you all," he finished.

"I love you," Bulma said. She stood near the open hatch of the time machine, biting her lip. "Tell your mother about your father here. Tell her to hang in there and things will get better."

Trunks nodded, taking in her words and wishing them to be true. Bulma gave him a watery smile and patted his shoulder before stepping back.

He started up the engine and the time machine hummed. Here goes nothing. He braced himself for the unknown. He had no idea what life would be like now, especially with his father. With what he knew, he couldn't expect much. That was all right, he decided, because he had a hug that would last an entire lifetime.


	32. Chapter 31

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- I received some reviews that questioned what would happen with the future Trunks. Just a reminder, Reconstruction is a spin-off story I'm writing that deals with the future Briefs family. The questions about Future Trunks and his father will be answered in it. Speaking of the other B/V, when you compare them to the healthier relationship in this story it is just so sad.

Chapter 31-

Vegeta woke up happy (not that he showed it on his face because it took a lot to make him smile). Trunks slept throughout the night and so his parents received a restful eight hours. Beside him, Bulma moaned in pleasure and snuggled up closer. Her disheveled blue hair tickled his shoulder and she breathed hot air against his peck.

"Good morning," she said.

He grunted in response. He reached down and cupped her well-sculpted rump, slinging her over his body. She giggled with a glint in her eyes. She gazed down and licked her lips. "Want to make it even better?" she asked. Her small hand traveled its way down until it bumped his cock that sprang forth. "Ah, I got my answer."

Vegeta lazed against the pillow, watching his mate attend to his flesh. She moved upward, teasing him instead of rectifying his predicament.

"Bulma," he huskily warned.

Her innocent eyes met his. "Yes, my dear sweet husband?"

Vegeta growled. He spun them around, taking control. "I am not dear or sweet. I am a bad -bad man," he said. He grazed between her thighs until she became wet with want. Then, he ran his calloused fingers upward in the same fashion she had. She squirmed but he wasn't about to let her get her way, teaching her a lesson of what you give shall return back.

"Yes, you are a very bad man, my Saiyan prince," she said with a pout.

This never got old. Vegeta found every time with Bulma just as amazing as the first time around. It didn't hurt that occasionally she'd let them try something experimental, but the simple act of lovemaking never seemed dull. He took a moment to savor this very moment. A sense of amazement came over him as he was reminded that Bulma died once upon a time, and yet here she was, alive, warm, young, and beautiful beneath him.

Bulma reached up and curled her palm against his left cheek, concerned. "Vegeta, are you okay?"

He answered her not in words. He kissed her deep yet soft, and he met her tongue with a gentle soothing slowness that was not their usual pace. I love you, he thought, but did not say it. The words took too much effort and courage to admit (sometimes to himself as well). He allowed their bond to open and he knew she felt the sincerity in his touch, the genuine loyalty and devotion only for her. He loved her, and she soaked it down to her soul.

Vegeta lowered his head and lightly kissed across Bulma's throat. His lips became harder and more insistent, venturing to her collarbone. Her hand ran through his upward hair, enjoying the foreplay that should be more commonplace than it was in their life. He pressed his lips against the smooth skin of her neck, choosing a spot that she could easily cover with her hair. Vegeta sucked for a few seconds, kissed her mouth, and then returned to the spot to suck again. Bulma smiled and caressed his upper back muscles.

"Did I get your stamp of approval?" she teased.

He pulled back and frowned. "Shut up, woman."

She touched his eyebrow with two fingertips. "So grumpy, lighten up, this is supposed to be fun, you know."

"Saiyans aren't meant to have _fun_. I was raised to hunt and kill and take what I want."

"Ah, so I am your prey then? I see how it is."

He rolled his eyes. "You talk too much."

"Oh fine, grouch."

This was why he avoided too much foreplay, he reminded himself. The damned woman couldn't keep quiet and annoyed him. He preferred the only vocalizations being sounds or names.

Vegeta grabbed the back of her knees and hoisted her up to meet him. He fluidly slipped inside her, meeting the place he'd come home to year after year, where he never wanted to leave. The breath went out of her, lips parted. Fresh from the morning, her skin gave off its natural beauty without all that glop she pasted on. This was how he favored her, brandishing the imperfections, raw and true. He stilled inside her core, taking time to nip the tip of her nipple. She writhed a bit.

"Vegeta, come on . . ."

He felt her heart thump wildly as he played with her breast. Her chest heaved and she tried to move her hips. He began to rock with her, falling into the rhythm of their union. Hands went everywhere, memorizing the curves, bumps, and smooth patches. There were still things he'd missed or forgotten despite his longevity, like the brownish small mole near her right hip. He wanted to take her all in, know every inch. Bulma ran her hand over an old slanted scar, probably doing the same.

They both groaned together, increasing their speed. He felt her shiver with pleasure and she bucked heavily against him. He tightened his hold on her, holding onto the little control he had left. They shared a searing kiss, tongues sliding against each other. The intensity of their nether regions beating together sent them into a frenzy and Vegeta lost it. He fell against the crook of her neck as he spilled. Bulma cried out, letting go after.

The wash of calm spread over them like a blanket. She cradled him against her, breath finally returning to normal.

"Mmmm, I'd like to stay like this all day," she murmured.

More like eternity, he thought. Even training couldn't fill the space that Bulma filled. It took him a long time to figure that out.

About thirty minutes later, Bulma parted, muttering something about paperwork in her office. Vegeta sat up, the white sheet running low against his crotch. She stared at him for a moment, licking her lips. He knew she was contemplating ditching work and he'd gladly support that decision.

A loud cry erupted from the next room. Bulma tore her eyes away and sighed. "Someone is awake," she said. She quickly dressed and hurried out of the room. He knew he'd lost her to duty. Today would be spent alone with 700 G.

Vegeta got up himself. He pulled on a pair of athletic black pants and a dark tank. He reached for his shoes but stopped. The soles were worn down and he decided there wasn't enough tread for safety. He took them up and proceeded down the hall.

He stalked into the nursery to find Bulma in the rocking chair. She held Trunks to her bare breast and he sucked nourishment. He halted a few seconds before stepping over, holding the shoes out. She raised an eyebrow.

"I need new shoes to train in," he demanded.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Maybe we can go out tomorrow afternoon."

"I need them today."

She shook her head. "We can't. I have to get that paperwork done by tomorrow. If we don't get approval for our latest project it'll throw every department off schedule."

"What am I supposed to do, go barefoot?"

Bulma frowned. "Just wear that pair for today."

"And if I slip . . .?"

She snorted.

"Dammit, woman, I need new shoes today."

"Then go get your shoes. You know how to get to the mall."

Bulma took a rag and put it over her shoulder. She patted Trunks' back so he'd burp. Vegeta stood there with wide eyes. She actually wanted him to go shopping by himself.

"Fine," Vegeta said.

"You can do it," she said. "I have faith in you."

"Of course I can do it," he scoffed. "It is just a nuisance. I'm not one for crowds or small talk with sales representatives."

She set Trunks back down in the crib. Afterward, she came over and pecked Vegeta on the cheek. "If you want your sneakers today than you'll have to suffer through. I'll see you around five this evening. Tell Mom to change Trunks into something warmer if she takes him out today."

So, Vegeta flew to the West City Mall for a new pair of shoes. He glared at everyone and the ignorant annoying humans kept their distance. He barked at the sales clerk about his active lifestyle needs, which made her flinch. She found a pair for him that was simple in fashion, with durable tread and healthy arch support.

Vegeta bought the overpriced shoes with a Discover card, snatched the plastic bag, and fled the blasted store. He flew peacefully, satisfied and somewhat proud that he hadn't caused a ruckus. Once at Christmas time he'd destroyed a wall near a seventy-year-old woman who tried to snatch the last manicure gadget that Bra had her heart set on that year.

He made a stop on top of a mountain to meditate. Who knows how long he stayed there, enjoying the view and taking in the fresh air. While watching his thoughts, he realized something startling. He was happy. More happy than his first lifeline. Maybe it was because he'd given up and accepted the happiness, and the sentimental bullcrap that went with it. Yes, there were complications, but beyond that, he appreciated everything he had now. Bulma seemed happier as well. Trunks surely would have less daddy issues. This trip was a blessing. That great-grandson of his never could have comprehended the favor he'd granted his grandfather.

The flight back to Capsule Corporation was enjoyable, Vegeta's mind clear and calm. He touched down in the yard, shoe bag in hand. Pretty ironic really, it was too late to train properly now. Still, he didn't regret the outing.

The building was dark and quiet upon entrance. Mrs. and Dr. Brief said they'd take their grandson to the zoo today and it wasn't yet dark out. Bulma was due home anytime, though. He flipped on the overhead light. He walked past the living room and kitchen to the hallway. He would put the shoes away and then take a long hot shower.

The bag handle slipped from his fingers and the plastic covered box thumped against tile. Every part of Vegeta's body stilled. There on the floor at the edge of the hallway was Bulma, sprawled perfectly, arms folded over her chest, clutching a single fully bloomed red rose. She still wore her lab coat, which seemed odd, not that any of it seemed right.

His brain told him to call her name but he couldn't muster the strength to do so. Instead, he stared with large eyes, taking in the scene with disbelief. There was no blood or wound on her. It looked like she'd fallen asleep on the floor and someone came around to pose her into a completely graceful position. It scared the hell out of him. The entire beauty of it was unnatural.

Most of all, the horror of it, was the vacant sensation within his chest. When he searched for her presence, nothing was there. The terrible knowing that even when he moved and examined her, the hope was zilch of her being alive, that was the fate of someone who could sense ki. Still, he moved, still he searched. He knelt and pressed his fingers to her pulse-point. His breath shuddered and he hung his head.

"No," he whispered.

Vegeta scanned his wife's body. There really wasn't a scratch on her. The only blemish on her was the pinkish hickey he'd left that morning. What had happened? Her face was cold. How long had he been out? What time was it? How long had she been lying here?

He pounded the tiled floor and it cracked. Dragon balls or not, death stung. Its icy fingers reached out and stole precious souls away, reminding people who was really in control. Even if he'd bring Bulma back, she was gone now. This moment, she couldn't open her eyes, she couldn't talk, she couldn't touch, or scream, or . . . Vegeta let out a yell.

What if this was a natural death? There really wasn't any mark on her, not one. She looked like that girl in that Earthling fairy-tale. . . Snow White, yes. Some sappy part of him almost kissed her, but he quelled the ridiculous notion. This was real life and his wife was dead. Again. And there was a slim chance, always that small fear, that she couldn't return this time around.

Vegeta couldn't decide what to do next. He had to move her. When Trunks and Bulma's parents walked in from their trip to the zoo they couldn't see this. The weird thing was he couldn't bring himself to mess up the beauty of her. Everything was so in-place, her hair, the fold of her hands, the unwrinkled clothing. It was all peaceful as if she were at rest. A shiver ran down him. No! There was nothing right about this. And, that rose . . . Someone had surely placed it there. Someone was to blame for this!

He was prepared to gather her up when he spotted a piece of folded paper peeking out of the pocket to her lab coat. He took it out and a new convulsion swept down his body at the scrawled letters.

_You and the boy killed my Gero and Super Improved Cell. No one steals my toys. Both of you must pay. _

_-Hedoro_

AN- Please, don't hurt me


	33. Chapter 32

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

Chapter 32-

A headache demanded for Bulma to vacate the offices of Capsule Corp early. She luckily finished the most important paperwork, so it wasn't a big deal. Worn, temples throbbing, she headed to the living quarters of the corporation. She was hungry, and of course, Vegeta would demand for a prepared dinner. Delivery pizza it was.

She entered, her hand reaching for the light switch on the wall, when a presence moved in the shadows. She stiffened. Was it Vegeta? No, she had an uncanny way of feeling when her husband was around. This was somebody else. A shiver traveled through her, and in good reason. The body came forward and she covered her mouth with a gasp.

Hedoro.

Bulma stepped back and stumbled into the wall. She pressed herself like a pancake against the flat surface, forcing herself to keep breathing. He looked exactly the same as she'd last seen him, from the gray hair and mustache, to the white shirt with double R logo. He even wore the white bracelet.

The man gave her a nod. "Hello, Mrs. Bulma Brief."

She simply stared. "Why are you here? In my house?"

Hedoro frowned. "And you call yourself a genius. Why do you think? I've come to kill you." He glanced from side to side. "I see that you are all alone."

"How did you get in?" she questioned. The living quarters had a top-notch security system.

He reached out and ran his pointer finger down the side of her face. She would have slapped him aside if she could have brought herself to move.

He moved his hands in grandiose gestures. "I've been through time and space, and picked up a collection of handy souvenirs."

Yet again, Bulma's eyes roamed to the white band on his wrist. The scientist in her begged to tear it apart and examine the insides, see what it did and how it worked, despite the demanding dire circumstances. This gave her an idea. If she could lure Dr. Hedoro into the lab she could use something on him. There were at least a dozen chemicals that could eat away at his face. All she had to do was throw an open bottle at him. That, or she could operate one of the battle droids she built for the new indoor gravity chamber. If she got out of the way, she could leave it to the machine to blow the bastard to smithereens.

Bulma dared to meet Hedoro in the eye. She gestured to the bracelet. "If you let me live, I could look at that for you. Wouldn't you like it to work better? I could add on to it, give it new features."

For a split second, Hedoro considered her offer. Then, he shook his head. "I've encountered many Bulma Briefs in my travels. I could find any of them to do maintenance. In fact, I left one with the yakumi race in exchange for Ketchup and Mustard's DNA to make Cell. You, however, are the wife of the man who killed my Gero and Super Improved Cell. I'm afraid you must be eliminated."

Okay, think Bulma, her brain said. You can still beat him. You don't have muscle or martial art skills but you have brains. Think. The only thing she came up with was to kick him in the balls. The psycho had advanced alien technology but he was still just a man. She raised her knee and slammed it into his groin. Hedoro hollered in pain, his eyes incredulous.

"No one messes with a Brief without a fight!" She kneed him again.

Blinded with pain, Hedoro gave her the advantage to go for the bracelet. Her fingers tore at the device and managed to get it from around his wrist. The band seemed to clasp with Velcro-like material. She ran for the door, pushing away at the white band. How did this work? The bracelet might transport her anywhere in space, but at least she might be able to get away. Nothing happened. The thing must have had a complicated way of working that required more time to figure out. She threw the device down and stomped on it, smashing it so Hedoro couldn't grab it again to use.

There was a flash of hope before Hedoro came before her and grabbed her by the shoulders. She struggled, but even though she exercised on a regular basis, her strength was not on par with the insane man. She felt like the weak little girl who screamed for help while in search of the dragon balls. Tears stung her eyes. No, she wouldn't scream. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she tried one more thing, a last ditch effort. Occasionally, Vegeta and she were able to feel each other, an act he called the Bond- a mind-link Saiyan mates used to communicate with. The ability had never been used on demand, but she tried to stir it now by concentrating on him. She stretched out her mind and filled it with emotion, and desperation. _Please, Vegeta, I need you_.

Hedoro whipped out something small and gray that resembled a garage door opener. He pressed the cool plastic to her jugular vein, interrupting her attempted telepathic plea for help. There was a sting and then her legs gave out. Paralyzed, she could only watch as Hedoro retracted the electronic device and gaze down at her in satisfaction.

"I've just sent a current running through your system that will stop every nerve, then every organ, until your heart and brain give out. There is no pain, right? It's a shame. But there is no mess for me to clean up. That's a bonus. You can stay pretty until the end. I'll keep you pretty as a present for your husband's return."

All she could do was blink. That is, until even that was too hard and she stilled completely. Her eyesight grew fuzzy and then blinked out. There was nothing to do but think.

I'm dying, she thought. In the end, she pictured Vegeta and Trunks in her mind. She felt alone and cold, and she wished she could die in their embrace. She was sorry, because she was the weak Earthling woman she was. Even her brain couldn't save her when it mattered. The ideas and notions became fewer in-between and slipped slowly into oblivion before she drifted away completely.

King Yemma didn't have time to listen to her complaints. He stamped her approved for heaven and ushered her from his office. Bulma grew tired of flowers and sun quickly. So, she went in search of Goku so he could alleviate her boredom until she was brought back by the dragon balls. At least watching training and competition would stimulate her mind.

* * *

Vegeta had touched millions of dead people while under Freeza's reign, and saw billions more, but holding the still dead corpse of his wife unnerved him. He'd lost her at a young age once upon a time to Kid Buu but it'd only been a concept, something Kakarot told him about. Then, he'd dealt with her impending death in the hospital, but he'd been able to prepare. There'd been a final acceptance as her tired eyes closed and her wrinkly body gave out. It was nothing like the battle raging up inside him now at the feel and sight of Bulma's lifeless youth. This wasn't supposed to happen. She'd always been so lively, loud, annoying, and . . . well, Bulma. This wasn't her now, it was only her body, and it just didn't seem right. Everything was wrong with the world. . . no, the universe. This was something he wouldn't be able to escape from, even if he traveled thousands of miles into space.

He carried her in his arms, and despite her lightness, she felt heavy, weighing down upon him. He didn't bother turning on lights as he made his way down to the lab. Bulma had set up a spot just for situations such as this. Three freeze chambers were placed in the back to preserve bodies until the dragon balls re-manifested. The reality of their presence was something they never discussed, and they'd always ignored the darkened corner where they sat, especially when they used this space for 'extracurricular' activities. Now, the pod-like compartments were all too real.

Vegeta pressed the square white button and there was a hissing sound. The glass top lifted open. He gently placed Bulma inside. He positioned her arms over her chest, and yet again she looked like she was only sleeping. The appalling rose she'd been holding had been crushed and disposed of. Before shutting her body in, Vegeta tugged off the wedding band from her left ring-finger. He rubbed it between his index finger and thumb and then stuffed it into his pants pocket. The glass cover lowered and shut with a slight thud. He took a long look at her face before the glass clouded over with frost.

Four long months. For once, he appreciated Kakarot's irresponsibility and unwillingness to come back when needed. He'd be able to wish Bulma back in four months instead of a full year. Vegeta slammed his clenched hand against the top of the next freeze chamber, and surprisingly, it did not break. He knelt and placed his forehead against the cool metal. There weren't tears, just exhaustion and numbness. Any time was too long. He'd already grieved for years in solitude during his elderly years. He was through with her absence.

Damn that Hedoro, he thought. I, Prince of All Saiyans, vow on the lives of the remaining Saiyan race, and the memory of the fallen, that the bastard will pay for this. Not just death, but to suffer slowly and horribly. If he learned anything valuable from Freeza, it was how to torture a victim for days before death.

Above his head, he heard footsteps and the sound of infant crying. Vegeta did not want to move, but the words of Hedoro's message echoed in his head. _You and the boy- Both of you must pay_. Someone strong had to keep an eye on the brat.

He trudged up the stairs. Vegeta stopped on the edge of the living room. The sight was ridiculous and on a normal occasion he would have spouted sarcasm. Dr. Brief held a black balloon with the yellow silhouette outline of a baby giraffe. Trunks wore a piglet hat. What sort of nonsense were these nonsensical humans exposing his offspring to? A shark or tiger would have been more appropriate. Any sort of carnivore. But a pig? It made the Saiyan shiver. Mrs. Briefs nuzzled a stuffed penguin against the baby's tummy.

"Oh my gosh, hunny, did you see that? He smiled," the ditzy woman gushed to her husband. "Where is Bulma? We have to find Bulma!"

Vegeta's gaze followed down to his son and sure enough, the baby's mouth was open in a toothless upturn of the lips. It was slightly early for most babies, but Saiyans weren't average, and he was of royal blood. Of course he'd develop early. That usual sense of pride lay dead and vacant, and only thoughts of Bulma missing out on the milestone filled Vegeta's mind.

"She's dead," Vegeta said tonelessly. "Hedoro broke in and murdered her."

Mrs. Brief turned and touched her chest in shock. Her squinty eyes opened for a split second, hinting at blue. "My little girl," she whispered.

Dr. Brief's pipe fell out of his mouth. "Impossible," he said. "We have a security system."

"Your inferior Earthling technology failed," Vegeta said.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Brief said, "I don't believe it."

"Her body is in the basement. Believe it," Vegeta said harshly.

The blond woman began to wail. Trunks' face scrunched up and hollered along with his grandmother. She clutched him to her heart.

Dr. Brief stiffly stood. "I installed the security devices myself."

Something snapped. Irrational and anguished, Vegeta rushed at his inlaw father. His large hand wrapped around the man's throat. "If you have such wondrous technology, show me the means to find the bastard who did this!" he growled. They ran into the flatscreen television and it fell from its perch on the entertainment system.

A gasp escaped Mrs. Brief. "Oh my."

Scratch, the cat, jumped out of nowhere. He latched onto Vegeta's shoulder with sharp claws. Then, he swatted his paw at Vegeta's face with a hiss. Vegeta swatted the black feline aside.

Vegeta backed away, breathing hard. Dr. Brief heaved and clutched his neck. Vegeta backed up, slightly ashamed, especially when he saw the way Mrs. Brief shielded Trunks from the violence. She met Vegeta's eyes with disappointment. Never had he attacked the scientist or his wife, but nothing had made him loose reason like this in the house. Only the desperation while in the presence of Babidi or while trying to reason with the people of Earth to share energy could compare.

Wordless, Vegeta left the scene. His boot fell on a piece of machinery near the front door. He bent to pick up a crushed white bracelet.

AN- By request, next chapter will include a part about Krillin and Eighteen


	34. Chapter 33

Twice Upon a Time

Summary- All Vegeta wants to do is fall asleep and wake up to see his dead wife, Bulma, in the Otherworld. Instead, Vegeta wakes up rejuvenated over thirty years in the past to find that he's been given a second chance.

Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation

AN- This is a little something to lighten the mood . . . until the end of the chapter that is . . .

Chapter 33-

Things were simpler when it was just Master Roshi, Turtle, Oolong (who often hung around Kame House more than his own place), and himself. A male bachelor pad. Of course, Krillin wasn't as perverted as Roshi and Oolong, and there were many awkward moments. Like that time he'd walked in on the master when he'd been having private time. Oh, he never wanted to relive that again, and knocked on the bathroom door every time these days. Or that time Oolong tried to persuade him to call a prostitute service. _Really, it isn't natural to go this long, Krillin. If you don't watch out, you might look down and find nothing but a shriveled limp noodle._

It was never easy living at Kame House and Krillin always kept himself prepared for an uncomfortable situation. Adding a gorgeous blond android into the mix rose Krillin's unease meter about ten-fold. Where he used to tip-toe around to avoid danger, now he wore full-plated armor for protection. . . from his own urges. Temptation lingered in every corner and it became more difficult to keep himself in line with every passing day. What he wouldn't do to borrow some of Goku's sense of innocence. When he'd offered to take Eighteen off Bulma and Vegeta's hands he hadn't really gathered what he was in for.

That day began normally, with Krillin awakening from a steamy and frustrating dream. He groaned, shifted in bed, and reached down to fetch one of the dirty magazines he hid under his bed. He took care of it quickly and diligently, hoping that would be the end of it. Of course, he knew better.

He dressed in a short-sleeved polo shirt and shorts. Then he went downstairs for breakfast. Master Roshi was doing his morning exercises. Three women were shown on the screen in skimpy spandex, one with an uncovered midriff. They bent, supple and firm, moving around to give view of their buttocks and nether regions.

"Whoo hoo girls, keep it up! One, two, three, four. Yeah, I'm with you!" Roshi cheered.

Krillin wasn't the strongest man on Earth but he was pretty strong-willed and these programs did not get him "off". Thankfully it took more than exercise programs for him to become aroused. So, he turned away thinking nothing of Roshi's routine. He stopped in his tracks.

There, leaning against the kitchen counter, stood Eighteen. Here was a real three-dimensional woman in front of him, in nothing more than a pair of gray panties and matching tank top. Krillin choked on nothing but saliva. She held a long yellow banana, which she peeled and then moved the pale fruit to her soft waiting lips.

Krillin's face became very hot. This was worse than Bulma roaming around the space ship scantily clad because she never ate provocatively.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Krillin stammered out.

"I'm eating a banana. Why, does that bother you?" she deadpanned.

"Well, uh. . . Yes, actually it does."

She munched and swallowed. "Why would eating bother you? It is a natural function that even androids engage in."

"Well, uh . . ." It was hard to think and form sentences. His brain instead wanted to process the way the thin fabric hung around her plump and perky breasts. "It isn't so much the eating but the clothing you are wearing while eating. I mean . . ." He bent and rubbed his bare head. "You are in your underwear."

Eighteen popped the last bite of banana in her mouth. She stepped away from the counter and sauntered over to the trashcan and threw the peel away, even bending a bit which was totally unnecessary. Krillin tried to stare at the floor tiles.

When she turned, she shrugged, unconcerned. "It's hot. I don't have clothing for summer and no one has offered to take me shopping."

"Oh," Krillin said and laughed nervously. "Why didn't you just say so? We could take you to the mall."

"That's right, baby!" Roshi hollered. They both looked over to find the old man leaning over the back of the couch, his eyes bugged and aimed at Eighteen's naked skin. "I wouldn't mind picking out a piece or two, or being a judge while you model. What do you say?"

Krillin was not a violent man but he suddenly had the urge to knock the elder upside the head. How dare he say such vulgar and rude things to her? She might be an android but she was still a woman with feelings, not an object.

Eighteen approached Roshi and grabbed his head in a vise grip. "I don't think so, lecherous ol' man. I'll take the short one over there instead."

Krillin watched her beat the master and wished he'd stepped in. If he had hit Roshi himself maybe she would have respected him a little, noticed him more as a strong man . . . who could take care of her. He inwardly groaned. There he went again having notions of grandeur. She didn't think of him as anything but the weak, short, and shy nervous one. What else could a woman like her see in someone like him?

Android 18 dressed in her normal attire of a long-sleeved shirt, vest, jean-skirt, and leggings. Krillin felt ashamed he hadn't considered her wardrobe. Of course she would want summer clothing, and maybe even a bathing suit. He gulped as indecent pictures played across his mind. Living on the ocean could be a blessing or curse.

How in the world could he go on being better than Master Roshi and not touching? I'm a strong-willed individual, he told himself for what seemed the millionth time that day.

They left in flight and Krillin pushed himself so she wouldn't have to slow down on his account. It really sucked that she seemed to have more strength, stamina, and power. Yet again, he found himself feeling worthless.

The mall was packed as it always was on the weekend. Eighteen examined the shop map and pointed to the numbers. She wanted to visit every adult clothing shop. With something akin to excitement (well, as excited as Eighteen got), she grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the crowd. Shocked, Krillin allowed himself to weave through people and bags. His heart raced a little. Relax, Krillin, he told himself, she simply grabbed you because she is in a hurry and doesn't want to get separated.

The first store was not to her liking. She complained about everything: cuts, colors, designs, textures, and material. He would have called her picky, but he was relieved. The selection was way overpriced for his wallet. Being a side handyman didn't pay much.

The second store was a lingerie store. Krillin stopped in his tracks, blushing. "I can't go in there!"

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Why not?"

He gazed to the side at an empty bench. "It isn't proper. I can't. Why don't you take my credit card and I'll wait over there for you?" He gestured to the wooden bench near a photo booth.

"Very well." She held out her palm for the card. Krillin dug into his pocket and pulled out his leather wallet. He fumbled with it, almost dropping it, but managed to remove his Visa. She snatched it and entered the store. Krillin let out a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

He sat down at the bench. His eyes roamed to the photo booth and he sighed. Maron and he took at least three dozen pictures in that exact booth. He'd been such a fool to think he actually had a future with her. She deserved someone better. He noticed the way she looked at tall hunky guys with big muscles. Eighteen deserved better as well. He sure was hopeless.

Eighteen emerged holding two paper shopping bags with the store's logo which happened to consist of a bra. She handed over the card with a smirk. "Thanks."

He tucked the card away and mumbled, "You're welcome."

"Do you like red?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Why?" Krillin said, totally confused.

She smirked again. "No reason." She shoved the two shopping bags at him.

Krillin took the bags, caught off guard. He caught a hint of red within one of the bags and just about passed out. What? He couldn't help but peek inside to make sure. Yes, there was a set of red lacy panties and bra. When he glanced up he found Eighteen's back. He ran to catch up.

A beefy young man who looked like he'd crawled off a romance novel bumped into Eighteen's shoulder. He stopped and ran his eyes up and down her frame, lifting a brow. "What do we have here?"

"Nothing for you," Eighteen said.

"Are you sure?" he said, leaning in.

Before Krillin could say something, Eighteen took hold of the man's arm and twisted it. He hollered in pain. She released him and said, "I'm sure."

The man backed off and held his arm. He muttered something about the woman being a psycho.

Eighteen glanced back and called for Krillin. He hurried over and she snatched him again, this time by the hand. She led him in a whirlwind. Krillin couldn't help but realize how different she was from the preppy Maron. Eighteen's hand almost seemed possessive in his, but he was probably making it up. Still, he couldn't help but wonder about the red garments in the shopping bag. It was almost like she'd been implying something.

The next stop was a department store. Eighteen took her time arguing with sales clerks, trying on make-up and perfume samples, examining jewelry, and flipping through hung garments. She piled clothing on his right arm because there weren't any carts. It was pretty degrading but he didn't complain. He'd do anything for her.

She dragged him to the dressing rooms and he stood outside the curtain, fidgeting. He knew what was going on behind that curtain. He tried to think about other things like Frieza or Yajirobe but he kept drifting back to the changing beauty just a few feet away. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a female arm popped out from behind the lavender curtain and grabbed his shoulder. She flung him inside with her before he knew what was happening.

Eighteen pinned Krillin to the wall, holding him with two hands. He comprehended that she was in nothing but the undergarments she flaunted that morning. She pressed herself against him and leaned her face in. Her breath hit his sensitive ear and he flinched.

"You really are cute, and red is one of my favorite colors," she said.

Krillin caught the image of himself in the mirror. His face was beet red. Whether she was talking about his blush or the panty and bra set, or both, didn't matter. She was definitely coming on to him now.

The android pecked him on the cheek. She pulled back and gave him that playful smirk. She turned to her clothing on the bench, about to put them back on. Krillin mustered up his courage and stepped over. He spun her to face him and then pushed her to sit on the bench. She gazed up through thick lashes, a tad surprised. Krillin touched lips with her in a warm and gentle kiss. She took his head and deepened the kiss, going all out. His eyes popped open when he sensed her wet tongue push against his mouth.

They left the changing room proud of themselves, holding hands, this time walking together instead of Eighteen in the lead.

Things were different at Kame House after that. Even though Krillin's life didn't become less complicated or even less uncomfortable, he was by far happier.

* * *

Minutes passed like hours. Vegeta looked at the clock several times per hour, begging time to tick by. It was quite ironic. When Bulma was sick and dying he longed for time to stop completely, and here he was wanting it to speed up. Four whole months.

No nagging. No pestering. No arguing. No playful teasing. No vulgar innuendos. No bitchiness after a hard day in the lab. No squeals of excitement and ramblings of scientific jargon after a major breakthrough in an experiment. No soft touches or breath on his back. No snoring in the middle of the night. No arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him in place against her in bed.

No Bulma.

He tried to train and get his mind off it. At first he neglected Trunks and let Dr. and Mrs. Briefs take care of him. It hurt too much. His vibrant blue eyes (her eyes) stared up at him questioningly as if asking _Where is Mommy_? Every time they reminded him that he failed.

After the second week Vegeta broke. He had to take care of his son. Hedoro specifically said that he was after Trunks for revenge. The past Trunks had daddy issues deep down and he'd promised to prevent those from reforming. So, Vegeta picked Trunks up out of his crib late one night after the kid began wailing. He checked him out and discovered the brat needed nothing but his mother, which was something he could not provide.

"Look, boy, you're going to have to bring out that Saiyan strength to get through this." He paused. "Both of us are."

Mrs. Briefs came in to find the pair in the rocking chair, Vegeta holding the child up in a sitting position to face him on his knee. Vegeta's haunted eyes stared off into the darkness, his silhouette cast by the moon.

"I'm sorry, Trunks. I failed your mother. I failed . . . But I promise I will keep you safe."

Mrs. Briefs turned around with a wobbly mouth and water in her eyes. The next day she had to do far less to take care of the baby, and even less the day after that. Soon, at the Briefs' amazement, Vegeta only handed Trunks over for changing and baths. He became so attached to the baby that he even took him into the GR to sit and watch him train in his carrier. The baby watched in fascination at his father's ki blasts and occasional gold hair. Vegeta knew his son was intrigued and this gave him a sense of pride.

One day, after Vegeta put Trunks down for a nap, the doorbell rang. He prepared himself to scare away some Jehovah's Witness or girl scout begging for money. When he opened the door instead he found the bald monk standing on the doorstep.

Krillin grinned and raised a hand in greeting. He was practically glowing as if he'd won some award. "Hey, Vegeta, is Bulma home?"

"No, she's not," Vegeta said in a dry tone.

"Bummer. See, Eighteen and I are engaged I want to invite everyone to the wedding. Could you give her this invitation?" Krillin handed out a scarlet envelope.

Vegeta frowned and took it. "I will in three and a half months when she comes back."

Krillin blinked. "What? Where did she go? That's a long business trip."

Vegeta's jaw flinched. "She's dead. It'll take that long for the dragon balls to recover."

The news made Krillin's energy deplete. He took a moment to gather himself. "She died? Look, man, I'm sorry. Hedoro did it, didn't he, that goon? If there is anything I can do just let me know. I'll help you get that guy."

He knew the little man had good intentions but company made things harder. Especially engaged and happy company.

Vegeta's tired eyes closed for a few seconds. "I don't even know where he is. Look, I appreciate the offer but I think you should just go." And with that, Vegeta slammed the door in the bald man's face.

The darkened and hollow dwelling engulfed the Saiyan. He leaned his back against the door, letting the wedding invitation fall to the floor. His fingers dug into his right pocket and rubbed a delicate silver band, its imprint practically engraved on his thumb and forefinger.

Only 105 days, six hours, and seventeen minutes until he had his woman back. Vegeta glanced up at the clock and the second hand met the twelve. 105 days, six hours, sixteen minutes.


End file.
